


Chasing This Starlight

by t0bemadeofglass



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Memory Loss, Alternate Universe - Teen Wolf Fusion, Complete, F/M, In which Loki doesn't attempt to take over the world after he falls, Magic, Prompt Fill, Slow Build, dark!Natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-07 18:33:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 32,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Natasha loses her memories after being targeted by an unknown enemy, there's only one person Thor knows who has the capability of bringing them back.  A pity Loki asked Thor to never interfere in his life again after dropping to Earth half a year ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! First shot at a T rated fic [Surprise surprise] though it may change in later chapters. Goodness only knows. Written for the amazing Bella, who requested a fic where Nat loses her memories and Loki helps bring them back. I twisted it just a touch to make it a WIP, hope you don't mind darling!  
> Thanks so much for reading, as ever!

Everything had been going well enough, Natasha thought, until Tony decided to run off his mouth.  As was normal with Anthony Stark, he never knew how to keep his own thoughts well enough to himself, and though they hadn’t had much time together since Fury had mandated they all move into the man’s tower (which he was thrilled with) Natasha was already growing fed up with the bastard.  He had a hard time getting over the fact that Nat had fooled him into thinking she was really just Natalie Rushman from Legal, though really she hadn’t had to try hard with him at all, and never failed to bring it up whenever she did something he didn’t like.  

This time had just been one too many, and Nat had left with a slammed door and a curse in Russian to let him know that she meant business.  She was damn good at hiding her feelings, so when they poked out like that, rearing their ugly little Soviet-inspired heads, they knew to bunker down and wait until she came back with her chocolates from Soho and her Starbucks venti chocolate chai latte with three shots of espresso and an extra shot of mocha

Guilty pleasure.

Why Fury had thought that getting two assassins, a idiot playboy, a super soldier that was still dealing with PTSD, and a mourning demigod who'd miraculously made it back to Midgard to try and make himself feel better to all live in the same house was a good idea was beyond her.  It sounded like the recipe for a bomb, not a working, functioning team.  They had no similarities, no common ground.  No strengths together.  They couldn't work as a functioning unit, couldn't do any sort of missions together because they wouldn't train together (Tony adamantly explained all he needed was his damn suit, much to Rogers' annoyance and insistence that, had he known a little self-defense he might've been able to stop the attack in Iraq.)  They were a liability.  A disaster.  A clusterfuck of huge egos and mismatched personalities that would never, in a million years, be anything more.  

And Fury wanted them to play nice?  

She snorted from around her drink, sipping at the hot liquid and allowing the hot liquid to seep down into her stomach, rolling along with the desire to punch Tony Stark square in the jaw and steal a quinjet to just leave.  Her attention was so diverted that she barely noticed the three men that had followed her.  Clumsy, she would realize later.  Her emotions had gotten into the way.  

She didn't realize that the first hand wrapped around her mouth and the second struck her hard on the temple before everything went dark.  

 

When she woke up it was to an empty warehouse, the night already having set in on the land around her, casting deep, long shadows into the warehouse.  She was given nothing to use as far as light went, and her arms and legs were both bound to the chair.  

She nearly screamed, the panic rising so swiftly in her gut.  What the hell had happened?  How had she gotten there, and what was going on?  Tears ran, hot and fast, down her cheeks, as a crash came from downstairs.  

No.  No no no this wasn't fair!  She looked wildly from side to side, trying to find out a way to hobble away, to find a safe hiding place, just as a voice from beneath hissed quietly for a "Natasha?"

Who the hell was that?  She tried to slow the panic, tried to remember what it was like to breath in, but nothing was making any sense.  It was as though everything that had happened--ever--had blanked out.  Not only was the world around her dark, but her memories, her thoughts, they were all dark, too.  Empty, vacant.  Who the hell was she?  A low keen escaped her mouth as she hung her head and started to cry, unable to think of doing anything worse.  The footsteps coming towards her hurried.  Maybe they were coming to help?  

Hopefully?

She didn't have to have her memories to tell her that this was not a good place to be in, nor a good situation to find oneself in, but she couldn't get out of the rope bindings, and she couldn't see any other way around it.  She tried scooting back a little, just to get herself some room, but the chair made a horrible scraping noise as it moved on the hard cement floor that made her stop, stock-still, as the footsteps seemed to come to her level.  

_'Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasedon'tkillmedon'tkillmeplease--.'_

"Natasha?  Agent Romanov?"  The voices hissed out again, lights passing by her eyes.  Did she dare call out?  Was that even her?  She didn't know, and a sob escaped her lips, loud enough to catch the attention of whoever was coming.  Another light skittered over her, and a quiet sigh of relief passed through the man's lips.  

"Oh thank God--Tasha."  He stowed away the bow he'd been carrying and headed closer.  She couldn't help but shy away when he reached out a hand, and his flashlight she could see the confusion twist his worried features.

"Hey, you're okay," he murmured, one hand stroking the side of her face gently, almost affectionately, before moving to undo the bindings.  He'd pulled a knife free, and though she'd squirmed at the sight, he used the sharp blade to saw at the rope with one hand, the other pressing down on a device in his ear.  

"This is Barton--I found Agent Romanov, copy?"

There must've been a response.  

"Understood.  Will be at extraction point soon.  Soft opening when we get to base."

Natasha could hardly understand a word of it, clinging to his name.  Barton.  It didn't make any sense to her, but none of it did.  She was Agent Romanov, she could only assume, but what the hell was she an agent of?  And why?  

"Natasha, what happened?"  He was looking at her now, blue eyes bright even in the darkness, watching her for the smallest hints of understanding.  Anything. She wished she could give some to him, but there was nothing for her to remember or fall back on.  Another sob left her lips and it was as though someone had been shot in front of his eyes the way they widened and his breath quickened.  

"Oh God.  Nat--What'd they do?" He asked as he, once again, cupped the side of her face, tipping it up and to the side as though looking her over for bruises.  She didn't think she had any, didn't feel as though she'd been bruised.  Perhaps, but not likely.  

"Nothing--I don't know," she whimpered as he pulled the last of the ropes free.  Others had joined them, now, and they all had similar looks of shock on their face at the tears that spilled freely down her face.  "I don't know who it was, or what happened.  I just woke up.  I don't know who I am."  She admitted with a wail so loud he actually took a step backwards, his eyes so wide they might have popped out of his face.  It didn't help her, and she only cried harder.  Slowly, he took her in his arms and held her tight, pulling her free from the last of the bindings to hug her.  

"Hey, Tasha, it's okay.  We'll get it figured out," he promised.  "Just--just come with us, okay?"

She nodded, and followed him out to where the cars had parked just to the side of the building.  The man, Barton, was whispering something about keeping everyone away when they got back to base, as Nat was offered a seat in the backseat of the car.  She kept to herself, swallowing thickly, as Barton piled in beside her and ordered that they leave, keeping his voice muted so as not to scare her.  She appreciated it, she supposed.  

"What am I--who am I?  Why were you guys looking for me?" She asked quietly, turning to face Barton with wide eyes, wishing she could think of a way to stop herself from shaking as hard as she was.  It was maddening, that she couldn't get basic control over her body, but she'd never been so afraid.  Even if she ever had been, she couldn't remember it, dammit all.  

"You're a spy, Natasha.  A damn good one," He said, looking as though he wasn't used to the smile he was giving her, a sympathetic, apologetic one.  Why not, she wondered.  "You were my partner for work, and we think you were targeted because of something you knew.  You don't remember anything?" He asked, brow drawn in concern.  

She shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand as she tried to force herself to breathe deep.  To formulate some sort of response, or something to fill in the blank spots in her head.  Nothing came up, not even childhood memories, as though it was just a black, blank spot in her head.  How the heck had that happened?  

"I wish but it's like--it's like fuzzy.  As though they don't exist."  She gulped hard, wiping her eyes furiously and looking down in surprise as they came away covered in make-up.  Oops?  

Under his breath Barton swore, muttering something into the ear piece he'd been talking into before.  There weren't many more questions between them as they drove through the city, though he did reach for her hand to take it.  She pulled her hand back, unsure.  No, she didn't really want to hold anyone's hair, not right then.  Not without knowing him.  He said they were partners but what the hell did that mean?  And how was she supposed to know whether or not he was telling the damn truth?

A tall, dark-haired woman greeted them at the large doors of an even taller building than those around them.  She shot the pair of them a tight, almost regretful, smile.  Why?  Natasha wondered, sure that her face telegraphed everything while these people seemed to keep it all under wraps no matter what.  Spys, she supposed. It was part of the job.  Perhaps she'd once done it, though any recollection of it was far gone.  She kept her arms pulled in tight at her side as they led her down empty chrome colored hallways towards a large, square room.  Two chairs sat at a table and the female, Maria, took one of them, the second being offered to Natasha.  She frowned as she took it.  

"What's wrong?" She asked.  "Why am I here?"  It couldn't have been a good thing, or else Barton would be with her, right?  

"We just need to get your statement about what happened," Maria said, her eyes sympathetic as they turned to Natasha, her shoulders loosening as she scooted a little closer.  "What can you remember about the place where Barton found you?  Was there anything on the floor, anything unusual?"

Natasha shook her head, blinking back tears that never seemed to end.  "No.  Nothing.  I don't know what you mean by unusual, anyway."  

"Strange.  Out of the ordinary for a warehouse.  The district you were found in doesn't usually get used for anything, so that they took you there only means that they were intending you wouldn't get found anytime soon.  Thankfully you have a tracker in your upper left arm," she nodded her head in its direction.  "That allowed us to find you."

Natasha looked down at her arm, unsure what to expect as she looked up at down the pale skin.  Scars littered the surface, the underside especially, but which of them was the location of the tracker?  Maria called her attention back, smiling and looking as if she would rather be doing anything but sitting there working on the details with Natasha, and Nat?  Well, she was in the same boat.  They went back and forth over the details for some time before Nat lost her patience, her nails having indented the skin on the palms of her hands.

"I don't know, alright?  I don't fucking know anything!"  She all but screamed, her eyes wide and watching how one of Maria's hands, the right one, moved to her belt. How Maria's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed.  

Natasha pulled back in on herself, biting her bottom lip.  She hadn't meant to do that, to scare her or at least put her on edge.  

"Sorry," she whispered, pulling her legs up to her chest so that her face could hide in her lap.  “I’m sorry--I’m so, so sorry I just, I don’t know anything, okay?  Nothing.”  She muttered into her lap.  What more was she supposed to say?  There was nothing else about it.  She had nothing to fall back on, no memories, no recollections.  It was blank.  Empty.  All she knew was that she’d opened her eyes and was in that warehouse, or wherever the hell it was, a man named Barton had picked her up, told her he was her partner, she was a spy, and then she’d been brought here to be questioned by this woman.  Nothing else came to her mind, nothing but fear, and she was sure by now she reeked of it.  How could she not?  Her body was trembling, her palms sweating.  This fear, the anxiety, was going to be the death of her she was certain.  

And they had nothing to go on, so it seemed, to try and help her get her memories back.  The trembling began anew.  

 

She was brought back to Stark Tower, where she was told she lived, and Clint kept by her the whole while, not wanting to scare her by letting her stay at the SHIELD headquarters with a million faces she wouldn't know.  She'd heard him telling a tall man named Nick Fury that he'd keep an eye on her at all times, and she didn't mind it.  They'd been hopeful that under the eye of two men called Stark and Banner that they might be able to find someway to bring her memories back.  Natasha did, too, her eyes trying to take in the group of bodies that had weaved in and around them, taking no notice of the three of them, like clockwork.  Crazy.  Had she once been part of it?  

She'd mulled over it while Barton drove, watching the cars as they passed by, the sky above them darkening with the oncoming of night.

"So, Stark Tower?  What's there?" She asked quietly, turning her eyes to watch Barton as they stopped at a busy red light.  

"Well, all the Avengers.  That's what we call ourselves, at least," Barton said with the briefest of smiles, his blue eyes seeking out hers quickly.  

"The Avengers?"

"Yeah.  We, ah, haven't had anything to avenge yet, but it's you, I, Tony Stark--Iron Man.  Steve Rogers, Captain America.  Bruce Banner, Hulk, and Thor.  Ah, Thor."  

"What's wrong with him?" She asked, not understanding it.  

"Well, he's just a god.  A demi-god, or whatever I guess would be the technical term for it."  Barton sighed, picking up speed as the cars around them moved once more.  "I don't really know what to call Thor.  Besides mopey, lately.  These clouds?" He said as he arched his head a little towards the sky above, where clouds had further growing around a large tower.  "They're all from him.  He went off on a mission to Sweden not long ago, and when he came back he was all sulky and kept bringing in the rain and thunder.  Don't know why, but that's Thor for you.  He works in mysterious ways."  His smile, this one teasing, was beginning to grow on her.  Thankfully, too.  She wasn't looking forward to living with a bunch of guys if she couldn't get along with at least one of them, but at least he was willing to help her.  

On the way he filled her in on what to expect from the others.  She knew already that Thor was to be tread carefully around, and learned how Stark had a quick tongue but might start being careful around her.  Apparently he was blaming himself for what had happened to Natasha, the pair of them having gotten into it right before she'd disappeared.  "Was it his fault?" Natasha asked, curious.  

Barton grew quiet, giving a one shoulder shrug.  "I don't know, Tash.  It's hard to say.  You guys have gotten into it before but he's never been one to leave well alone.  Still bitter about you getting the best of him when you ended up infiltrating Stark Enterprises."

"I did that?" She asked, eyes wide as he pulled into a large carpark besides the building she'd set her eyes on before, the man's last name plastered to the front like a signal.  Curious.  Did he have something against subtlety?  

"Yep.  I told you you were--are.  You are the best," he said, wincing at the slip.  Natasha reached over to grip his shoulder, to try and squeeze it reassuringly.  When he turned to her she offered him a small smile.  

"We'll get my memories back, right?" She asked.  

"Yeah, of course."  

"Then don't worry about offending me. I'll probably be so caught up with having everything I forgot back that I'll forget you said anything at all about it."  Well, at least she thought that was how it would work.  When she turned to get out she missed his grimace.  He hoped they got her memories back.  He couldn't imagine her without them; there was far too much danger.  

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone reading and who commented--you are all amazing, and I appreciate it so much! Hope you like the update, even if it's another short one!

Nat wasn't sure what she'd been expecting when she'd heard she would be living with a group of men, not having anything else to go off of but Clint and the way he reacted around her.  She imagined, perhaps, that the men she would meet would be at least similar to him, that if they were to work as some semblance of team, though Clint had used that word very loosely it seemed, they would at least have some commonalities and she could try and learn them.  

"God dammit Bruce, why'd you have to hit me with the blue shell?!" A distraught voice sounded from the kitchen, echoing through the elevator that Nat and Clint were standing in, the compartment having just stopped rising to let them out.  Nat swallowed thickly.  What the hell was a blue shell, and why was this Bruce hitting someone with it?  She looked wildly over to her partner, remembering his warning not to get Bruce angry, but he just gave a soft sigh.  

"I warned them to go easy on you," he muttered with a groan, the doors opening in time for them to hear another string of curses.  Loud, peppy music blared from speakers as three figures sat, hunched over and on the edge of the couch, in front of a TV, a whirl of color and creatures on bizarre looking vehicles driving around a rainbow track that didn't seem to have any sort of railings.  

_'What are they doing?'_

"Guys!"  Barton called out, though one hand from the shorter, dark haired man waved behind him as a sort of greeting, or a warning not to interfere.  "Natasha's home."

"Shit--Jarvis, pause!"

"Yes, sir."  Came a cool, disembodied voice from above as the noises from the television stopped, and the two figures at the couch in front of it turned to face them both, the one with glasses Natasha knew from Clint’s description to be Bruce, the same that she knew Tony Stark from the glowing blue arc in his chest.  He was the one that she was supposed to be mad at, and she supposed she could see the apology written on his face.  Curious, though if he drove her to . . . whatever it was that happened maybe he deserved it.  Still, she couldn’t really be mad at him for something she didn’t remember.  

“Hey, good to see you again Natasha,” Bruce said, offering her a crooked smile that she liked instantly, unable to see why Barton seemed to tense up when he spoke.  What was wrong with him?  It wasn’t like he was angry at the moment, right?  Well, he didn’t seem to be to her, at least, and if he wasn’t angry then he couldn’t have been a danger.  She chanced a smile of her own though she felt herself subconsciously step closer to Clint, swallowing hard.  

“Uh, I would say the same for you, but I can’t remember the last time I saw you,” she said, tongue feeling heavy with the strangeness of her situation.  Well if they thought it was odd they should try living her new life.  Or whatever.  

"Well, I'm Bruce,"the doctor started, still shooting her that pleasant, almost relaxing smile.  She dipped her head in greeting, preferring to play along with the introductions rather than try to explain that she knew who they were but didn't . . . didn't know who they were.  Weird.  

"And I'm Tony."  The inventor chimed in, his brown eyes never leaving hers.  "So, you don't remember a thing?"

"Nope," she said with a shrug apparently large enough to make his eyes go wide.  What?  Was it something she did?  Some cultural idea she had no clue she was offending, or something?  "Any chance you can help me?"

"Miss. Romanov step into my office," Tony said, and though his eyes still showed he was afraid he copped a cocky grin.  "After this game, of course."

Sure, whatever he said.  What did she know, after all?  She settled down on one of the chairs in what they explained to be the main living room, watching as the two men picked right back up where they left off, driving around in circles and throwing nonsensical items at one another: a blue shell, a green one, using mushrooms to speed up, throwing banana peels to slip the other driver.  It was madness, but at the same time Natasha couldn't help but grin, feeling herself loosening up for the first time all day.  And if the way her cheeks hurt from having smiled so much wax any indication, it was likely the first time she'd done it in some time.  She was even able to forget about Barton, not noticing how stricken the man was by how easily Natasha smiled now, how bright her expression became now that she wasn't so guarded.  He'd known her for so long he'd nearly forgotten what she looked like to look so, well, carefree for once.  It was too bad that such happiness came at the price of her memories, not that she knew that.  

The race ended quickly enough and Tony looked over to find Natasha grinning as she extended her hand.  "I want to play," she said with a chuckle.  "It can't be too hard, right, if you can manage it?"  

It was all he could do not to gape at her.  The Natasha Romanov teasing him?  The others would never believe him, and he could only hope that Jarvis was taping this so he could prove it to her when she got her memories back.  

"We've gotta get you to the lab first," he said, not wanting to do the work, but judged on the look that Barton was giving him it was for the best.  "Then you can face against Bruce and I," he smirked.  "Just so I can prove to you that, super spy you might be, you'll never beat me at Mario Kart."  

 

The tests were inconclusive, unfortunately, and though they played video games in between Tony couldn't help but feel a little more worried every time that Jarvis contacted him to tell him that he was unable to detect any sort of drug or pathogen that might've done that; as far as he was concerned, and as far as the tests were showing, there was nothing physically wrong with her.  Only mentally.  He kept this information from Nat, not wanting to worry her as she cackled alongside Bruce, looking more relaxed than Tony had ever seen her.  Even when she was pretending to be Natalie from Legal she'd never relaxed herself this much, allowed herself to enjoy life this much.  It was sad, Tony couldn't help but think, and wondered whether or not they should just give her a chance at a clean slate, another try at life.  For all she'd suffered through she certainly deserved it, deserved the break from the guilt and pressure of her past and current life.  

Clint wasn't so gung-ho about that idea.  "Don't you understand what kind of danger she's in?" He demanded through clenched teeth, his eyes skittering from where Nat was beside Bruce to Tony again before yanking the man aside.  "You probably can't begin to even grasp it, but she's made enemies who want her dead on sight, who will stop at nothing to ensure that her life is ended.  I cannot let that happen, and without the skills necessary to fight and to keep herself alive she is a huge liability.  She couldn't go anywhere without fear of being recognized even if she were to live a civilian life.  The families of many of the thugs she put away are still on the street, looking for her.  She's survived this long because she's able to fight and protect herself. I can't always be for her, Stark.  Can you when you can't even take care of--."

He cut himself short and Tony stiffened.  The bastard had no right to bring that up, not needing to complete his sentence for Tony to know what he was talking about.  Pepper, unable to stand what had happened with Tony shutting her out when he thought he was going to die, after having been put through hell time and time again not just with Tony being Iron Man, but also from all the times before that, had broken it off with him, and though she still ran Stark Industries (because even he knew that there was no one more qualified or better at it) she and Happy had gotten into a relationship.  He'd made peace with that, Bruce had moved in on Fury's orders and the two had hit it off.  He couldn't complain.  

It sure as hell didn't mean that Barton had a right to bring it up as a fault of Tony's, as if he didn't know it already.  His gaze hardened as Clint looked down to mutter an apology.  

"That was out of line," Clint said quietly, looking up at the inventor, who'd folded his arms across his chest and glowered.  

"No shit."

"Sorry."

He had a right to be.  "Look, I don't know what else to do, okay?  I've got nothing more that can help besides us hoping that maybe they come back, okay?  Unless you can find me an example of this happening to someone else, give me a sort of formula to follow, then I've got nothing. I'm sorry.  I really am.  But there's nothing more to do be done about her memory loss, Barton." He reached a hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose, eyes closing.  "All we can do is hope that maybe they get triggered into coming back.  Or one of us gains some sort of extra--oh shit.  Where's Thor?" He asked, his eyes widening as the realization hit him.  

"Upstairs, I think.  It's gloomy enough around the building that he has to be here somewhere.  Tony where are you going?" Barton called off after the running figure, his mind trying to catch up as he chased him.  

"He's a god, right?  Or demi god or alien or whatever the hell.  They've got magic, I always hear him talking to Steve about it--right?"

Clint's pace quickened as they sprinted up flights of stairs to get to the blond thunderer.  True to form he was sitting in the kitchen, eating his feelings in pop tarts as he was likely to do on an off day, and his blue eyes widened in surprise to see both men stopping just inside the kitchen doorway, hunched over and struggling to breathe.  

"Thor.  Got a situation.  Need help."  Tony wheezed, wiping the sweat from his brow as he clutched at his side, the muscle aching.  Clint filled him in further, explaining how Nat had lost her memories, and that Tony was getting nowhere with science.

"In short, we need your magic buddy," Tony cut him off, smiling brightly at the man.  "You Asgardians have it, right?  You keep telling Rogers about it."  H wished Captain Spangly was there to back him up just in case Thor tried to deny it.  As he seemed to be doing right then.  

"I am sorry my friends, but I do not have magic.  Only few are born with the Seidr that you need and the majority of them have not conquered the knowledge how to heal."  Here he paused, gnawing his bottom lip as he turned away to stare down at his hands.  "There is only one I know of with the sufficient skill to do this."

"Who--can we get him or her here?" Tony asked, taking a step forward.  There wasn't exactly any time to lose!  

"My brother."  Thor sighed.  

By Tony's side Clint deflated.  "Well shit.  He's dead, that's what you told us.  He fell from Asgard and died."

Again silence.  Thor didn't look up, and Tony fidgeted, confused.  

"Thor?" He tested.  

"I may have been mistaken, friends, to think that Loki had died when he fell off the bifrost, but he does no longer wish to speak with me, or have anything else to do with me.  I am sorry."

"Well we've gotta try anyway," Tony insisted, not willing to give up like that.  Natasha, for all her faults and her stubbornness, wouldn't give up for them if she had the chance to set it right.  He hoped.  "Give me the coordinations.  Let's at least take her there and see.  Some time alone might've helped him."  He paused.  "And you owe us a hell of an explanation on the way."


	3. Chapter 3

As they made plans for Thor, Tony, Barton, and Natasha to fly out to Sweden, where Thor's brother had last been seen, the thunderer filled them in on what was happening and why he'd lied to them about Loki's death.  They'd taken up residence in the kitchen, Thor at the table, Tony and Clint sitting on the bar stools, facing the broad blond man, with Nat sitting on the other side of the table watching them stare at one another for some time.  Were they going to say anything?  Thor took a deep breath, looking down at his hands at first

"After my brother fell I searched tirelessly for him, and managed to find a hint of his magic.  The three months I was gone and I told you that I'd gone to Asgard?" He asked, his brow pulled into a deep frown as Tony's expression darkened, not having liked being lied to.  It certainly didn't help raise his ideals of the demigod, as though the man's crappy mood hadn't been detrimental enough.  

"Yes, I remember it.  We really needed you in one of our few team bonding missions."  Well, they were supposed to be team bonding.  What had resulted was a lot of cursing.  Clint winced at the memory.  

"Yeah, that sucked," he muttered.  

"Well I apologize again for my absence," Thor said with a sigh, seated opposite the trio, Nat watching them each with an open expression.  Huh.  It must've been bad if Clint was frowning that way, his fingers tightening, then relaxing.  The same, almost, how Tony's own fingers were tapping out a fierce rhythm.  Did they have issues with sitting still when they were angry? It would surprise her, she supposed.  From what she'd seen they worked pretty high risk jobs--the whole spy thing, and fighting thing that Tony was hinting at--so she supposed it made sense that they were always so high strung.  

"Either way.  I traced him back down to Sweden," Thor continued, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the table.  "And he asked me to keep out of his business.  He wishes to remain unknown, especially to SHIELD.  Though I explained to him that Director Fury would rather know about him than for him to remain unknown and a possible threat, he made me swear not to break my silence.  But for Natasha's sake I fear I cannot keep it quiet for very long, but we must not tell anyone else within the organization that we are visiting, or even that he is alive."  His blue eyes sought theirs, keeping Tony's.  The man looked scandalized.  

"What?"

"C'mon Tony, you're good at a lot of things but not really at keeping secrets, if we're honest," Clint said.  "You've got your strengths and you're amazing with weapons and inventing.  But keeping your mouth shut?"

"I'm working on it," Tony growled, tensions rising once more.  Nat frowned as she looked over to the pair of them, confused.  Why were they so eager and quick to distrust one another?  

"I thought we were supposed to be a team," she murmured, her head tipping ot the side.  "That's what you said, Tony, that they were supposed to send you all on a way to build the team."  

The silence deepened, mulled over between them all with curiosity and a certain sorrow, Natasha thought.  The way that Clint's eyes flashed and Tony's lips quirked downwards, how Thor's shoulders loosened behind her.  Had she said something wrong?

"You're right, Tash," Clint murmured.  "You're right.  We've just gotta work at it."  

"And we'll get there," Tony muttered.  

"Certainly," Thor agreed, not wanting to let the others down by not responding.  Nat just smiled and nodded.  Well, good.  She hoped so.  She didn't want to get her memories back and come to this craziness.  She asked Thor to continue his story, smiling encouragingly as she reached out to take his hand in hers.  He looked far too stressed for his own good.  

"I hope that Loki is still where I left him," Thor murmured.  "I am sure that he will know something to fix this problem, even if it is not magic in origin."

"You're sure?"

"I hope so.  I know little else to do," he admitted with the shake of his head, squeezing Nat's hand tightly.  "Though if there is anything else I can do to help please ask me and I will do all that I can to assist.  I did not forget that it was you who sent Barton to assist in the defeating of the frost giants some few months ago."

Oh, well at least he didn't forget, because she obviously had no idea what he was talking about.  So she simply smiled and nodded, assuring him it had been no problem before looking over to Clint.  It hadn't been, right?  He didn't say a word, just gave a one-armed shrug.  

Jarvis came on the intercom moments later to tell them that the plane was ready for take off, the flight plan set for Stockholm, Sweden, a half day travel from where Thor thought Loki still was.  

"When I get closer I will be able to find him via his magic," he assured them, and Nat gave him her most grateful smile.  He returned it.  "I am sure he would not hide from me again."

No one said anything.  As Thor had said, there was little else to do besides hope.

 

Sweden, Natasha thought, was a nice country all around.  The people seemed pleasant, and the traffic wasn't bad as Tony hailed a cab from the airport they'd landed in, smiling when he was rewarded with a shout of surprise at having Tony Stark in his car.  Nat couldn't understand what the big hubbub was--it was just Tony, after all--but they got the ride free at least, Thor feeling out where his brother was supposed to be.  Squished in next to Barton, Tony up in the front seat schmoozing the driver and Thor on the other side of the backseat, Nat watched the cars around them pass by, smiling to think how careless everyone else's lives must've been.  It was curious that she should feel so care free, too, when there was so much at stake when it came to finding Loki.  

"Are you doing alright?" Barton asked, leaning over to squeeze her hand.  She nodded, smiling.  

"Yeah.  Just fine.  Why?"

"Just making sure," he promised her with a wave of his hand as he smiled and went back to counting the minutes until they were supposed to be there.  

They ended up in front of a police station, teeming with activity as sirens blared around them and cars came and went.  Tony tipped the driver generously, despite the man's protests he didn't need it, and Nat suspected it was for his silence.  The last thing they needed, she supposed, was word that Tony had come to Sweden.  It would only attract attention, which Thor had said was the last thing that Loki had wanted.  The blond led the way inside the tall police building, asking the responder at the desk for a Magnus Martinsson.  She smiled and pointed them into the main room, where a curly haired blond man was bent over something or other.  That was Loki?  

She'd thought he'd look . . . well, more like Thor, she supposed.  Asgardian, or whatever that meant.  He was reserved, though, blue eyes turning almost immediately at the sound of Thor's voice as his lips pulled into a tight line.  Uh-oh.  That wasn't a good sign, was it?  Nat shuffled near the back, hiding herself behind Barton, who squeezed her shoulder as the others came to stand in front of Magnus.  

Another man, this one older, with sandy blond hair and glasses, looked confused as he stared from one group to the man working under him.  "Magnus?  Who are all these people?"

"It's alright Ken," the man--Magnus, murmured.  "Acquaintances."

"I do not mean to interrupt but might we have a word with Mr.Martinsson?" Tony asked, deciding it best to take point.  Magnus'--or Loki's, whoever's, eyes turned to him, and with a start of recognition they all seemed to realize at the same time who was standing in front of them.

"Uh, yeah.  Sure," the other man, Ken, said.  "Magnus take them to room number three?  I think one and two are being used for interrogations still."

Oh, goodie.  An interrogation room.  Loki nodded and beckoned them to follow, his shoulders squared and his jaw set tight.  Clint stayed close to Natasha the whole while, helping her keep the distance from the one who was supposed to help.  She didn't mind.  From what she'd heard from Thor he was a genius, but one with a nasty mouth and a tongue of silver used to pierce his enemies.  She didn't want to be that.  As promised the room they were led to was empty, and Loki brought in extra chairs before walking over to the wall and pushing a button.  The lights dimmed a little, and Stark made some clever remark about mood lighting before Loki rejoined them.  

"What do you want, Thor?" He demanded, his eyes locking onto the man said to be his brother.  Nat supposed she could see it--the blond hair and the eye color and height, though for as built as Thor was, the other was wiry.  She couldn't imagine he was any less lethal, though.  "I told you to leave me alone."

"I know you did, brother--."

"Don't call me that," Loki hissed, eyes narrowed and taking a couple steps backwards.  "I'm not your brother, Thor.  I am, however, tired.  Tired and wishing you were gone."

"We need your help, Loki," Thor said quickly, obviously not quite sure he'd get the chance to again. The man opposite him narrowed his eyes.  He sighed and looked around to the group.  

"Who's been cursed?" He asked, looking at them one by one.  

Slowly, cautiously, Natasha stepped out from where Barton had been shielding her, her blue eyes unsure as they met Loki's.  For half a moment she thought she saw his gaze soften, but whatever it was faded quickly.  He took a couple steps towards her as well, and behind her Natasha could practically feel Barton tensing up.  She looked back at him, trying to smile and say that everything was alright, when a hand reached out to take her chin and she was forced to look into Loki's blue eyes as well.  Before her eyes he shimmered--actually shimmered with green light--and his appearance changed.  He paled, considerably, his hair darkened and straightened out though she could see some curls near the sides and very back of his now pitch black hair, and his eyes became very, very green.  She felt heat rising to her cheeks as she caught herself staring, openly, and the soft chuckle that resounded only fanned the flames.  

"What happened to you?" He asked, tipping her chin further up and to the sides, as though looking for something, running a hand slowly through her red hair.  Wherever his hand went the same green light followed, his long fingers tangling in her hair.  The heat in her face only intensified, dammit all.  

"Uh, apparently I can't remember anything about, well, anything," she said, tongue loose and mind wandering at what else he could do with those fingers.  Ohhh that was awkward, and the quiet laugh that came from him told her that he had an inkling what was on her mind.  Whoops?

"Obviously you have no recollection of what happened, where you were, who did this to you?  No passing idea, or lasting glimpse of something perhaps you weren't supposed to?"  

"No--she doesn't, or else we'd be following that lead rather than coming here," Barton snipped, his words like bullets as they made Loki's attention snap back to him.  "And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop manhandling my partner."

"Partner?" Loki smirked, eyes lighting up as though the possibility of something far more sinister passed through them.  

Nat swallowed thickly.  Now she understood why Thor said to be careful.  "We work together," she murmured.  "That's all."

He nodded, and moved from her face and throat to her hands, checking the places between them as though expecting to find something, checked her wrists and arms.  

"Should we, um, do this somewhere else?  I don't think I have any markings or anything.  It doesn't feel like it," she mumbled, looking down when he tried to catch her eyes again.  

"Are you shy?"  He asked, and something about his words made it sound like he was making fun of her.  She scowled and pulled away.  That wasn't very nice of him at all.  

"Yes, actually.  I just want my memories back, please."  She said, rubbing her arms where he'd touched, where she swore was still burning from the connection of his skin on hers.  

"It will take some time.  I'll have to explain it to my SO," he said, looking to Stark.  "And I'll look to you to pay for my time off," he said.  

Stark shrugged, as though the concept didn't bother him.  "Honey if I wanted I'd buy the damn police unit.  Just get her memories back."

"Please, Loki," Thor added, noticing the way that Loki's jaw twitched, as if he was fighting back an urge to rip Stark apart, or something.  Nat wrapped her arms around her midsection.  

"It'll take a couple weeks, and it'll have to be just Natasha and I."

There was a clamor of disapproval, mostly from Barton, and Nat had to wait until Thor had silenced them before she managed to be heard.  "How'd you know my name?" Natasha asked, surprised.  She didn't think anyone had said it.  His smirk was all she needed to confirm that, again, she really didn't want him ever angry at her or moving against her.  That was a terrifying prospect.

"It's not hard to guess it.  It's the only thing that you're sure about, and even then.  I can see it in your mindseye, how you cling to it because it's all you've got left.  I understand how important a name can be," he said, quietly.  "And the two weeks is non negotiable.  It is the length of time which the spell will ripen and take hold.  It is not simple to call back one's memories when they've been locked away like this, though what is curious to me is what you knew that made you such a target," he confessed.  "And for that I will take this on and help you.  We'll need a place to stay, just Natasha and myself."  He said.  "You will all be able to stay nearby, but not all the time.  There will be times when she and I need to be isolated."  He said seriously, his eyes finding Thor's.  The blond's widened.  

Because that seriously made her feel better.

"Thor?" She asked, voice quiet, timid.  She really didn't like that reaction.  

"I know the spell of which he speaks, and can attest to its success rate." He assured her, smiling as warmly as he could manage.  She didn't catch until it tapered off that it had never met his eyes.  Her skin covered in goosebumps.  

"I'll make reservations for one of the floors of a hotel.  Any preference?  Any sort of wind patterns or sun patterns you need to look for?" Tony asked, the sarcasm covering how worried he was.  At least, Nat thought he was.  It was so hard to tell with him.  

"Just one where the rooms come equipped with an open bar," Loki muttered, slowly settling back into the persona of Magnus, shoulders tensing again as he ran a hand through the fluffy curls.  He didn't look like he could hurt anyone like that, Natasha thought, looking more like a puppy dog than a serious threat.  She was reminded of how his eyes had flashed with dark curiosity before and it made her shudder.  She couldn't give him the chance to take her off guard like that.  Brother, or friend, or whatever of Thor's that he was, she still had to be careful.

"Let's go, then."  Magnus said, delving back into his other persona with a deep breath before allowing them out, bringing the lights back up.  

"Why'd you dim them?" Nat murmured, curious.  It hadn't really seemed to serve a purpose.

"It was a spell to keep any who were trying to look in from seeing me change," he murmured.  "Appearances are everything."

She was quickly getting that.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> The concept of including Wallander, and of Loki not having gone batshit after falling from Asgard comes from this gifset: http://vforvet.tumblr.com/post/36945638243/au-loki-didnt-do-all-the-bat-shit-crazy-stuff-on and, as always, the incredible Jessy who wished for someone to write something along these lines. I couldn't resist.


	4. Chapter 4

Natasha stepped out of the police building half an hour later with the others in front of her, Loki as Magnus leading the way.  He'd gotten the time off cleared with Ken Wallander, his higher up, and though the man wasn't thrilled that one of his team was taking two weeks off for family reasons--a death in the family, as they'd said to avoid as many questions as possible--they'd understood.  Thor had played along without issue, and Nat was glad that he'd chosen to forego the armor that she'd seen him wearing in one of the articles Tony, or someone, had framed and hung up in the house, and as they stepped out Magnus reached over to touch the plaid shirt that Thor had adopted.  

"This is how you choose to dress yourself?"  He asked, incredulous.  

"I see your fashion taste has much changed yourself, you don't get to talk about mine," Thor said, trying not to grin at the banter between them.  It must've felt good, she supposed, watching as they both loosened a little, going back and forth as Loki brought his car around.  It wasn't exactly the best, but who was Nat to judge?  Tony gave directions to the hotel that he'd already made reservations for, and Loki promised that he and Nat would meet them there.  Barton looked as if he'd insist on going with them, and for half a minute Nat almost wished he would, and simultaneously wouldn't.  This whole being unsure of herself thing sucked.  It was Thor that convinced him to stay behind with the rest of them.  

"No harm will befall her while she is with my brother, you have my word," Thor murmured.  "If he's agreed to help her it would do him no good to harm her, and it may be key to figuring out exactly what is wrong."

Barton's jaw set hard, but he nodded, his eyes flashing a warning that Loki didn't seem to care about.  With a kettle-drum heart Nat sat down beside the trickster demigod, strapping herself in quickly as Tony and the others caught a cab and led the way.  In the silence Nat considered turning on the radio, because even if she didn't understand the words at least it would be some noise to fill in the emptiness that hung between them, but Loki, it seemed, had other plans.  He chuckled when he caught sight of her hand moving to the knob and shook his head.  

"So.  Natasha.  What else have learned about your companions while with them?" He asked, his appearance shimmering back into that of his real form, she supposed, his green eyes seeking her out and holding her gaze for half a second.  She flushed.  

"Uh, I don't know that that's really going to help--."

"It's not, but you need to be comfortable with me.  You need to be in order for the spell to work.  It's meant to be cast by someone who knows the other person intimately, who can call back that which the person was before.  Does that make sense?"

"Yes," she flushed at the word intimate, wishing that she knew how to turn that specific feature of her body off.  That would be helpful.  "Well, Tony's a good guy.  He seems to like keeping up the persona that he doesn't care, but obviously he does enough to bring me here and help.  And he's really good at Mario Kart," she muttered this last bit distastefully.  He'd beaten her, the jerk, four times out of five.  "Uh.  He's also Iron Man?  But I'm not sure you're supposed to know that so if you could--."

"Anything that gets said between us stays between us," he assured her with the quickest roll of his eyes.  

She frowned.  "You know if I'm boring you you didn't have to ask."

"I was hoping you'd shed some insight on how they act around you," he said, the car coming to a slow stop at a red light, his gaze following a couple of pedestrians.  

"But how am I supposed to know if they're acting off if I can't remember how they acted in the first place?"

"Your mind may be out of sorts, but your body, your gut, will tell you otherwise," he assured her.  "It's muscle memory to grow tense when there's someone near you you don't trust, or to flush when you are attracted to someone."  Here he grinned over at her and the same blush in question reappeared, though she did her best ot meet his gaze and hold it despite her body's betrayal.  

"Well, Barton's protectiveness feels off.  I mean, it makes sense since I apparently can't defend myself as well as I could.  They're afraid of me being attacked."

"Why?"

"Apparently I'm a spy?" She shrugged, and punched his arm when he laughed.  "Hey!  Not nice.  You don't know me," she said with a glower.  

"I'm sorry," he said, breathing deep as he grinned, turning down a busy street, the cab just a few car lengths ahead of them.  "Not funny, you're right.  That is a very unfortunate position to be in, especially if you give so much away."

She huffed and folded her arms over her chest.  "You're telling me.  Apparently I'm one of the best."

"Which explains why you're always so confused by the blushing.  Your body's not used to it, and so because it keeps happening, but you don't know anything different, your body is in a constant state of confusion.  Does that sound familiar?"

Oh yeah it did.  She nodded, watching him, wishing she could pull him apart with words the way that he seemed to do with her.  Maybe she would be able to after she got herself back, or whatever.  

"What of Thor?" Loki asked, and this time his voice got quieter, more concerned though it was plain even to Natasha that he was doing his best to hide it.  

What about him?  What was she supposed to say when she'd just met the man that day, basically.  Had it only been a day?  Her exhaustion hit her like a train, a yawn spilling from her lips.  "Uhh, I don't know.  He said I've helped him in the past, helped send Clint to help him.  He misses you from what I can tell.  Tony said that hes been in a constant state of depression since you've been gone, that the reason his tower never gets any sun is because your brother is sad and moody all the time.  Uh, I think he has a boyfriend?" She asked, wincing when Loki let out a harsh laugh and nearly ran them off the road in surprise.  

"Really?  Which one?"  He asked, gleeful.  "He never believed me when I told him--."

"He's not here.  I've actually not met him," she murmured.  "Well, not with this memory haze thing going on.  Maybe he'll join us later.  It'd probably put Thor in a better mood."

Loki smirked and nodded, but said little else about the subject, gloating internally instead.  By the time they'd gotten to the hotel his mind was back on business, though.  

"There may be a great deal of things I ask you to do that will make you uncomfortable, that was another reason I began to ask you as much as I could about the others.  It will not be possible for them to be present during much of these rituals, as it is likely their energy will be fed off of rather than the spell concentrating on saving yours.  The spells will require blood, in some cases, though not enough to kill you.  I promise," he said.  "I have no interest or need to end your life."

She murmured that she understood.  This was beyond anything she could comprehend, so she supposed if he said he needed something of hers to make it work . . . well she didn't much have a choice but to believe him.  Again, Thor's warning that he was a liar came back to mind.

"I need you to promise not to lie to me, then, if I'm supposed to trust you," she said, meeting his eyes.  "Is it fair enough that I ask you not to lie to me if I trust you with this?"

He pursed his lips, thinking it over.  "I don't have to help you, you know that."

"Is asking you to tell the truth really that big of a deal?" She asked, incredulous.  Honestly?  

"Yes.  The truth is not a pleasant subject and I deal in lies and deceit.  Mischief is my craft."

"So I've heard," she said, voice dry.  "But I have to trust that you will tell me the truth.  And you said yourself that you were curious enough about what I knew that had my mind wiped that you'd help me.  If you don't then you'll never find out."  Maybe she wasn’t so rusty at this questioning thing after all.  He paused, considering her, before his lips spread into a wide grin she wasn’t quite sure she liked or not.  

“Very well, Natasha.  You have a deal.  From here on I’ll only tell the truth, I swear it.”

She paused, watching him, trying to make him feel uncomfortable.  It didn’t work, because his grin grew even wider.  “Fine.  Ready?” She asked, rubbing her arms.  It felt like he was seeing her without her clothing on every time he shot her that look.  He nodded and turned the car off after parking it, the others already waiting for them outside the building.  Clint, as ever, looked worried for Nat’s safety, while Thor’s had eyes for no one but Loki, now dressed in a pair of black slacks and a white button up with the sleeves rolled up.  Nat gawked when she turned back around to catch sight of him.  Well.  He filled that out nicely.  Tony led them all inside, suitcase of things already in hand, and checked them in as Nat took her time looking around the hotel.  It was enormous, and Tony had requested an entire floor to all of them for the next two weeks?  Well, it certainly beat out quite a few other choices.  They filed into the elevator, Loki looking entirely at ease while Thor stiffened.  He prefered to take the stairs at Stark Tower, Tony murmured to Nat after giving Thor a curious stare, though she couldn’t, for the life of her, understand why.  Oh well.  To each their own, she guessed.  

As expected the entire floor was extravagant, nothing less for Tony Stark she supposed, who grinned as he showed off the suites that he’d gotten for them all, most of which extended far past what a normal room should have, with balconies and enormous televisions and living rooms, to say nothing of the bedrooms.  Nat couldn’t imagine what such a huge bed would be needed for, though Tony was quick to fill her in much to her dismay, turning away before he could see how red her face got.  Jerk.  Loki moved on and ended up deciding on a suite where the few rooms faced the sun, and quickly went about converting the living room area to something else, something far more arcane she supposed, watching him summon what looked like stones, strange, bright colored liquids that didn’t look as though they could be from this world (although for all she knew they could) as well as an assortment of other materials, chief among them that caught her attention was a bright, silver dagger with a beautifully engraved hilt that made her break out into goosebumps.  This wasn’t something she was so sure about, now, her mind recalling how he might need her blood, and when he asked her to come forward it was with heavy feet.  

“Pick a room and then meet me back out here?” He asked, green eyes bright as they met hers.  She could tell that he’d missed this, the world practically vibrating around him.  “We’ve gotta get started immediately.”

“I don’t mean to whine but can it wait?  I’m exhausted.”  She said, yawning without even meaning to, just driving her point further home.  Wordlessly he surveyed her, then gave a quiet sigh.  

“If you insist.  Would you like to sleep with me?”

She nearly choked in surprise.  “Excuse you?” She demanded.  She wasn’t so naive that she didn’t know what that meant!

“Not in that way,” Loki said with a bark of a laugh and the same broad grin as before, except this time rather than making her uncomfortable it only made her heart beat faster.  Oh, no.  Not good.  “But contact is good for intimacy, and I said you and I need to be intimate for this to work.”

Good God, what had Thor signed her up for?  She murmured her assent, bobbing her head as she brought a small bag of things that Barton had packed for her into the nearest room, Loki following behind her.  

“Right now?” She asked, not proud of the way her voice squeaked.  Dammit, she was a full grown woman!  She needed to act like it.  

He just smiled and shook his head.  “No.  Not now.  You rest and I’ll wake you up when the others are getting food.  Shall I?”

“Okay.  And we’ll start all this tomorrow?”

“Yes.  Tomorrow.  Now go to sleep,” he said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at how tired she’d been before and now how awake she seemed if her questions were any indication, while Nat just smiled as his back turned.  Heh.  She was getting her way anyway, and she reveled in the small victory while she could.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the awesome feedback, glad you're enjoying Magnus!Loki as much as I am =]


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow. Sorry for how long it's taken to get this one out! As ever, thanks for reading, and I'm gonna try and finish this one up ASAP now that I've got a decent idea where I'm gonna go with it. Thanks again, and enjoy!

The next day dawned bright, and Loki was up with the sun, arranging things in the middle room so that by the time Natasha's body woke her up not long after, likely used to the early mornings, he came knocking on her door just as she was standing up out of bed, stretching.  She'd managed to get away without sleeping beside him in bed that night, and though she understood the necessity of it it didn't mean she was wholly comfortable right then and there with the idea.  Not yet, a least.  She'd have to be if she wanted this to work, though, she supposed.  

"Time to get up," Loki reminded her, voice just loud enough to wake her up.  

"I already am," she called back, voice cut off by a yawn.  She needed coffee or something, something to help kick start her day, and with heavy feet and groggy eyes she padded out of the bedroom. not caring much that her shorts rode up perhaps a little too much, or that her tank top was askew and showing her midriff.  What did that matter when she needed coffee?  She stopped in the kitchen to brew herself some, struggling to read the instructions without yawning, finally managing to get the machine to work with her, rejoining Loki only after she'd doctored up her first mug of the hot drink.  He'd cleared off a space for her to sit on one of the props he'd set last night, beckoning her closer when he caught sight of her, smiling to see her awake yet still too tired to catch the way his eyes roved over her body.  

"Wh-at's on the agenda today?" She asked, the first word broken by a yawn before she took another sip of her drink.  Was this ever going to wake her up?  

"Well, first we need to establish some sort of base, some guides for which to go off of.  You already asked for my honesty, which you will have, in exchange for your trust.  Do you trust me?"  He asked, sitting her down on a tall bed of some sort, one padded but raised up from the ground.  It put them on equal levels, and as Nat sipped at her drink she nodded.  

"Yes, I do trust you."

"Excellent.  Then I need you to clear your mind and close your eyes for me," he said, voice going soft and sweet as melted sugar, one of his hands taking her left one.  As she followed his orders, doing her best to keep her breathing even, her body steady as she felt his grip steady the left hand, his voice growing lower as he started to murmur in a language she didn't understand.  Something sharp pressed into her palm and she shouted, but when she opened her eyes she couldn't see a thing, the blackness extending even though she knew that her eyes were open.  

“Loki?” She asked, her voice higher pitched than normal as she felt her heart rate increasing.  What the hell was going on?  She could feel his hands on her wrists, the pain spiking up her nerves, but something cool pressed up against her cheek.  

“You’re fine, safe,” he promised, his breath warm on her ear as he murmured into it, his lips pressing gently to the skin.  “Trust me, remember?”  

Right.  Trust.  How the hell was that supposed to work again when she couldn’t see what he was doing?  She bit her bottom lip as she tried to force her heart to slow back down to a normal, healthy speed, not that it went very well.  At least the pain of the cut began to fade, though she felt what must’ve been blood pooling in the spot that she’d been cut.  She closed her eyes, the organs useless to her anyway, and a hand smoothed over her left upper arm.  Loki’s voice kept mumbling in her ear, words that she couldn’t begin to decipher where they began or end, barely drawing breath as something cold and wet was painted on the skin of her left forearm, what felt like an upwards painted arrow.  She tried to resist asking what it was, not wanting to distract him too much from what he was doing out of fear of what it would do, but not knowing seemed even worse.  What if it didn’t help?  

‘Trust, Natasha.  Trust.’  

Right.  She could do that, couldn’t she?  After all he hadn’t given her any reason not to trust her.  Not yet, at least.  She hoped he never did.  Forcing herself to relax, she tipped her head back slightly and tried to lose herself in the cadence of his words, the way that each of them had a certain rhythm, the comfort that she was almost able to draw from it.  It was relaxing in its own certain way, how she assumed a familiar song or rhyme might be, even if she didn’t understand what it all meant.  

Tiwaz.  He kept repeating that word over and over again, and with each repetition of it the mark on her arm seemed to twinge, the pain of her hand long since forgotten.  What did it mean?  She’d never heard the word before, or, rather not that she could remember, yet the power it held seemed to make her heart beat harder every time it came out of his mouth.  Or perhaps that was simply their proximity.  

She was jolted backwards, glad that she’d sat on the bed so that it was positioned full out behind her, the world around her seeming to shake away underneath her until she wasn’t sure of anything except for Loki’s presumed hand on hers and his words still ringing in her ear.  For a brief moment she thought she could understand what he was saying.  ‘Return what has been lost, replace what once was here, allow again for balance.’

Her heart stopped for a moment, and she swore the air was stolen from her lungs, before it all came crashing back around her with the rest of the world, eyes snapping open to see the white, brightly lit ceiling above her.  Nothing else, however, returned to her mind.  No sudden, quick realization, no flooding of memories, and she felt regret and disappointment seep through her veins.  She’d really thought, idiotic though it likely was, that it might’ve changed something.  She whipped her head to the side, catching sight of a deep red-brown arrow painted on her upper arm, a stinging in her hand that had only faded out of her attention, and now came back with sharp promise once her gaze was drawn to it again.  

“Nothing happened,” she said, brow pulled tight as she turned to look at Loki, who simply shook his head.  

“It was a preemptive spell.  To ready your mind,” he said.  “The sudden recurrence of memories and thoughts, unlocking them, can be rather painful if you are not prepared for it.  It’s too sudden, too dangerous, and if you have not been made ready it can even lead to an overload of your mind, which will kill you,” he told her in all seriousness.  “This helps to expand your mind, to ensure it is willing to receive the memories that had been taken from you.  I’d rather you didn’t die, it looks very bad on the report,” he said, and though the corners of his lips quirked up in a teasing smile she didn’t return it, swallowing thickly.  Well, that made two of them.  

“So now what, now that I’ve been properly prepped?” She asked, trying not to sound as worried as she was, leaning back on her hands as she surveyed him.  

“Now the real work begins.  You’ll want to lie down again,” he said, moving to the side and summoning herbs into a bowl, using his magic to grind them while he worked at something else she couldn’t see.  As instructed, she laid back, staring up at the plain white ceiling tiles above her, trying to guess at how many there were before she got bored.  

“So, why’re you on Earth if you’re like Thor and from outer space?” She asked after some time.  “I mean, it’s not like we’re all that exciting.  You’ve probably seen more than I ever have.”  Especially now, she considered with the quickest quirk of her lips.  

“I was not fond of my foster parents,” Loki murmured, voice so soft that she had to strain to hear it, turning her head in his direction, eyes trying to decipher what it was he was doing.  His arms moved swiftly and with ease, obviously well practiced at it, shoulders and stance relaxed as he looked to be stirring something, though what it was was hidden by his body.  In front of him, he raised one of his hands to draw what looked like the same symbol, an upwards pointing arrow, into the air, and the symbol actually burned red for a moment before it collapsed into a fine, brick red color and he collected it in a small bowl he’d had in front of him, granite grey and thick.  

Nat tipped her head to the side, confused a little.  “Your foster parents?  I thought you and Thor--.”

“Did he not tell you of my parentage?”  He asked, his lips tight as he turned away from her, shoulders tense and the movements less graceful and fluid than before.  Interesting.  

“No,” she said simply.  

That seemed to please him, if the way that he relaxed half an inch or so was any indicator, though he didn’t say anything for some time, his arms moving quickly as he combined ingredients without seeming to stop and consider what he was doing.  She wondered how often he’d been asked to do this, or something like it, but kept from asking him in favor of watching him work.  There was something oddly mesmerizing about it, her head tipping to the side as she considered him.  He was intent on his work, focused in a way that she wasn’t sure she could even begin to appreciate without knowing what it was like to be so purely interested and invested in doing one thing.  Perhaps it was strange to her only because of the lack of her memories, but Loki’s sureness and obvious knowledge about how to do whatever it was he was doing?  

She wasn’t sure there was anything more interesting to watch than watching him work.  

“Enjoying the show?”

She flushed, and though he didn’t turn around to look at her she could hear the smile in his quiet, private laugh, the noise hitting her hard in the gut and wishing she knew how to make him make more of it.  

“You just look really intent.  How many times have you done this?”  She couldn’t help but ask.  Was that rude?  Maybe.  

“This spell?”  He asked, turning his head a couple inches so one of his eyes could catch her gaze and the pink flush that still covered her cheeks.  “I studied the mind for a couple decades, attempted to learn how it worked and how it held memories and thoughts, emotions and dreams.  Upon realizing that there was little one could do that wouldn’t affect the head I considered it a victory and gave it up.  So for this spell I’ve only done it a few times,” he admitted.  “Though each time has been positive.”

She thought it over.  That wasn’t bad, as far as assurances went for whether or not something was going to work. She was sure she could think of worse ways that this could’ve gone down.  Like the fact that, when he turned to finally look at her, she could see him hard and pressing against the fabric of his jeans.  She swallowed as quietly as she could imagine, quickly turning her eyes away as the heat intensified between her legs and on her face.  How did she even have enough blood to do that?!

“Do I embarrass you?” He asked, voice quiet and amused and far too close for her, but when she looked over he was mere inches from her face.  One of his fingers had the red powder in hand and now that her head had turned he dragged a couple fingers down her face, writing something from her left cheek to her neck, then repeating the process on the other side.  

"No."

"So why are you so flushed?" He asked, eyes flicking up to hers, and she tried not to scowl.  

"Because you seem hell bent on trying to make me so.  And my mind wanders."  They’d promised to be honest to one another, hadn't they?  Well she supposed it was better for her to set an example.

“Oh?”  He grinned as he finished painting whatever it was on her skin.  “It must be such an interesting place for your mind to have taken residence there.  What were you thinking of?”

“It’s not really any of your business,” Natasha couldn’t help but mumble as he closed his eyes and put his hands on either side of her face, holding her gently.  

“Close your eyes,” he murmured.  She did.  

It only made sense, she supposed, for him to take her entirely by surprise and press his lips to hers.  She guessed, based on how he tensed up immediately, then relaxed, that he hadn’t anticipated her returning the favor.  

A burst of something white-hot and painful hit her hard on the back of the skull, and she pulled away from Loki with a groan as a flash of a young child, red curly hair in a messy ponytail, crouched in front of a dead body, the girl’s hands stained with blood and her eyes determinedly blinking away hot tears as they threatened to stray down her cheeks.  Nat’s own eyes flew open, destroying the image, or memory or whatever it was, and swallowing thickly as she looked to Loki, who looked just as surprised as she was sure she did.  

“Was that?”

“Your past.  Yes,” Loki said, voice quiet.  He looked to the door.  “I need a word with my brother.  You stay here.  Order breakfast or something, but please.  Don’t leave.”

She gave him three minutes after he’d stepped from the room to follow after him, not having any interest in following the rules.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

She stood just outside in the hall after Loki had disappeared into Thor and the other men’s room, and though Thor boomed his greeting to his brother the other seemed less than thrilled.  

“What exactly am I supposed to be seeing here?” He hissed.  “She’s been hurt, Thor, do you know what?  Do you want her remembering it all?”  He sounded as though he could barely hold it back, voice shaking slightly, and Nat could only imagine his face drawn tight as he glowered at his brother.  

“What’s the problem?”  She could hear Clint now.  “Did you get some of her memories back?”

“Yes.  I wish to know what happened to her when she grew up.”  Loki said, sounding less than thrilled to have to deal with Barton, not that Nat could understand why.  It wasn’t as though the archer had done anything to offend him.  Well, not that she could tell at least.  They were all taking their cues from Thor, after all, and it didn’t seem that the two brothers were on the very best of terms.  

Clint hesitated just long enough to make Loki growl.  “Tell me or I’ll not go any further with this job.”

"Why does it matter so much?" Clint asked, his voice defensive.  "You agreed and even said that you were curious enough to take the damn job.  You'll do it no matter because it'll eat you alive until you do."

"I'll not torment her to memories that will break this person that she has been allowed to become.  Have you considered that perhaps this is a blessing in disguise?" Loki demanded, his voice very quiet but nevertheless stiff and immovable.  "Some of us would be better off if we could forget.  If the sins of our past were eradicated from our mind.  Do not let your past with her cloud your judgement about what is best for your supposed best friend."

There was silence then a muffled thud, followed by Thor's muffled growl and an ominous rumble of thunder that seemed to come from within the room itself.

"Agent Barton release--."

"You want to know what fucking happened to her?"  Clint demanded, his voice shaking, thick with emotion that made even Nat's stomach bottom out.  For half a second she considered moving away.  Did she even want to hear all this?

She didn't think she could escape Barton's words even if she tried, though.  "She was taken in by a real monster of a man.  Thor told me that you consider yourself to be a sort of freak, an outcast because your parents didn't want to tell you about your past, so sure you think it's best that she doesn't know.  She was pulled apart from a young age, broken down to her basest skills, taught how to kill and how to lie and how to use her body as her main weapon since she was a child.  This man that took her in?  He specializes in breaking young girls, and he wasn't the only one who worked on Natasha.  She's been in and out of her own head more times than she's even told me, and all because the bastard who found her and raised her saw her as a weapon.  As a little girl that he could manipulate and fuck with until there was nothing left in her that he didn't want.  You want to talk about a fucked up life?  She's well into her nineties.  That's ninety years of killing, of seducing, of being forced into  life that she wanted nothing to do with and shouldn't have had any part in."  

There was a shuffle, a couple grunts, and Nat could practically see Loki trying to struggle out of whatever hold Clint had put him in.  She guessed it wasn't working because the archer began anew, his voice more venomous than before.  "You want to talk about what's fair to Natasha?  What's fair is giving her those tools back, so she can finish what she's been trying to do: erase the damage of the past.  You want to talk about what would be best for her?  Those men that hurt her are still alive.  Still very much present.  You take those abilities and everything that she's been able to do for herself, how she's been able to take care of herself whether she's alone or with a team?  You're killing her.  I don't care if you take her to that golden city of yours or not, they will find a way to track her down or pay someone to get to her, and they will end her unless you make sure that she has the tools to stop them again, and again."  

His voice was at its breaking point, having shouted as the emotion and pain bled through the walls.  Nat didn't have to crouch by the door to hear it all, her stomach bottoming out and her mind blanking as the stories barely registered.  

"And if you inadvertently kill her there's no fucking place that you can ever escape to that I will not find you, and make you pay for what you did.  Have I made my point fucking clear?"

"Skills can always be taught once more," Loki growled, though his voice was far more strained than Nat had ever heard it, rasping as though air was difficult to find.  She could only imagine Clint had tightened his grip on the man's throat, most likely.  She swallowed thickly and stood up, opening the door.  As expected Clint had Loki by the throat, his forearm trapping the tall man against the wall and pressing even harder against his larynx.  Thor looked about to say something before Nat's presence shoved them all into silence.  Without another word Clint let Loki down, the man dropping onto his feet and rubbing his throat, though his eyes only ever focused in on Natasha.  

"I need to know what happened, Loki," she murmured, suddenly unsure why she'd even come in.  She didn't want either of them fighting, though the affection and care was touching, but it wasn't worth them coming to blows or choking for that.  "Thanks for your considerate thought, Loki, but I think Clint's right.  I need to know."  Her arms started trembling, and she wrapped them around herself in order to try and make it stop.  That was annoying.  "I don't want to relive my life not knowing what I'm running from, or what I've done with it."

"You say that now only because you do not know.  There are things you may not wish to have learned again," Loki reminded her, his expression near unreadable as he stared at her.  

She shrugged.  "Then you can wipe my mind again.  Right?"

He scowled.  "I'm not able to fix everything, and to tamper with your brain so many times would cause irreparable damage.  You are fortunate that, thus far, there isn't anything that has gone incorrectly with either this ceremony or the ones that took your memories."

"It seems to be a speciality of mine, recovering from mental trauma.  Right Clint?"

The archer was frowning, and his expression only darkened with the reminder.  He sighed.  "Unfortunately."

"Then we'll take that chance.  But for now?  I'd like to know my past, please."  She added the last bit to try and soften the command, and judging by how Loki's body relaxed it had at least worked a little.  

"Very well.  If that is what you want, then that is what I will do," he sighed.  She felt a faint pang of gratefulness for the man.  Would he truly have stopped if she'd said she didn't want to, despite Clint's threats and the word he'd already given at the beginning of this whole mess?  That sort of loyalty was touching, and she found herself shooting him the smallest of smiles.  

"Now, can we get some food?" She asked, trying to lighten the mood.  "I haven't had breakfast yet."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short update before work, but hey it's better than nothing, right? I've got the beginning of the next chapter written, and I'm on Spring Break, so ideally I'll be able to get somewhere with all my fics in the next week. Thanks so much for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

Loki hardly spoke with her the rest of the morning, and though he was polite enough Clint took to filling the silence between them with filling Natasha in on the latest mission that Steve Rogers, the captain of their team apparently, was being sent on, hoping it might spark something else within her memories.  Though none of the names stood out she could tell it was helping Clint more than her, helping him find some semblance of normality in what had become the craziness of the present.  She was fine playing along, sipping at her orange juice and catching Tony's eye as he smirked at the archer's exuberance.  

"You know, Clint, you're never that excited to speak to me about missions," Tony teased.  

"You're not my partner."  Clint laughed.  "And you barely step out of your lab long enough to do anything other than get coffee, how am I supposed to talk to you?"

"Can't you go down with him?" Nat frowned.  

"Not unless I want to be accosted by his idiot robots--."

"They didn't accost you--and don't call them idiots!  Only I get to do that!" Tony defended, his eyes narrowing.  Nat simply rolled her eyes, looking over at where Thor and Loki had been sitting, the pair obviously having moved in the commotion that was Tony and Clint arguing.  She frowned, searching around the expansive kitchen and dining room of the suite, only able to assume that they'd left.  She wasn't sure she wanted to know why, or what they'd be talking about, though she was sure she had at least a faint idea.  

“What’s up?” Clint asked quietly, leaning over and clasping his hand over hers, where she was holding onto her glass so tight it was a miracle the glass hadn’t entirely shattered, splintering from where her palm covered its once smooth surface.  Woah.  How did that happen?

“Sorry,” she said quickly as she released it, juice leaking slowly from the cracks within the glass.  She watched them dribble through the edges and couldn’t help but think how easy it was for her to weaken it so much, how she’d barely even noticed what she was doing.  How was that possible?

“You feeling alright?” Clint asked, frowning.  “Did something come back?” His eyes lit up at the idea, sitting up a little straighter at the prospect of her memory coming back without Loki’s help.  Poor bastard wanted it so badly.  

She shook her head, lips turned down and brow furrowed with concern and an apology.  “No, I’m sorry.  Just thinking is all.”

“Oh.”  He looked disappointed for half a moment before he forced himself to smile once more.  “That bad?”

“Huh?”

“You only ever near break something when you’re in a bad mood or something goes wrong so I figured you’d just remembered something particularly nasty,” he told her, and even Tony gave a quiet chuckle.  

“It’s true.  You broke through the glass doors to my lab after one of the missions with Steve went sour.”

She winced.  “I did?”  Was this supposed to make her feel better?  “Maybe when things get back to normal I can try working on it?”

“I’m sure we’ll get it all figured out,” Clint promised, standing and mopping up the little juice that had spilled before depositing the glass into the small sink provided for them in the suite.  The archer continued on with stories as though nothing had changed between them all, filling Nat in on the usual sorts of missions that they went on, who they worked with, which villains they went against and what each of them did.  Nat had to laugh at a couple of the names.  Batroc the Leaper, really?  Dr. Doom?  She’d thought the nickname Black Widow had been rather dramatic, but she supposed Doctor Octopus really took the cake.  Clint even alluded to the first time they met in Budapest, though it was clear he didn’t feel wholly comfortable divulging too much information in front of Tony.  Nat wasn’t sure why, but didn’t press it.  Everyone had their reasons she supposed.  

“Think we could train sometime soon?”  She asked when Clint stopped to draw breath.  “Just so I can get an idea of how we’re supposed to fight.  In case.”

Barton frowned.  “In case what?  Loki will get your memories back, wherever the hell that damn sorcerer went.”  He muttered, looking at where he’d been sitting before as Nat had done a few minutes earlier.  No wonder she wa sthe spy if he was just getting to noticing.  She hid her smile by stealing a drink from his glass of water.  

“At least we had a productive morning,” she reminded Clint, not wanting him to be too angry with Loki.  He was doing the best he could, she was sure, and she was grateful for his concern.  He didn’t have any reason to care for her, not really.  Even despite being curious he didn’t have to be nice about what was happening, and the fact that he was, well, it only made him seem better than Clint seemed to give him credit for.  

“I hoped a productive afternoon would be in the cards, too.  The sooner you remember everything the less danger you’ll be in,” he reminded her.  Right.  How could she forget with Clint going on about the specific feats she’d done before, none of which she remembered?

Thor came in a few minutes later, thougH Loki wasn’t with him to Nat’s curiosity and mixed dread. Had he meant it when he’d said he wouldn’t help anymore?  Clint rose, his eyes narrowing and mouth opening to say something--likely less than polite about Thor’s absent brother--but the demigod silenced him with a hand up and a smile of peace on his face.  

“Loki will return, I assure you, he just needs time to think by himself, but he will continue to help the Lady Natasha recover her memories.”  He walked closer to her and clapped Nat on the back.  She nearly pitched forward, not expecting the sheer force he commanded with one swing of his arm.  Not for the first time was she grateful to be on the same team as he was.  She’d really hate to be on the opposing side of one of his hammer blows.  Ow.

“Thanks, Thor, for everything,” she said, forcing herself to smile though she was certain her brain had knocked hard against the front of her skull.  

“Of course.  I wish to do whatever I must to help a fellow teammate,” he assured her.  “And though he doesn’t always look it my brother is happier with you here.  Certainly lighter than he has been in some time.  It does him good to help, aids him in forgetting the past I think.  I am glad of it.”  He paused, even sobering up a little.  “It is certainly more comfort than I can offer him.”

Natasha felt her throat tighten up, and without a word she stood to wrap her arms around him, though she had a hard time holding him in his entirety.  He gave half a moment’s pause before embracing her the same, burying his nose in her red curls to simply breathe her in.  

“You two are too fucking cute to handle,” Tony said with what sounded like a repressed smile.  “But, uh, I’d like ot keep my breakfast down.”

The resounding ‘thwak’ of Clint hitting Tony upside the head resulted in a shout of pain from the inventor and a snorted laugh from Nat, Thor’s own laughter sounding like a thunderclap as whatever tension there might’ve been in the room quickly dissolved as the archer and inventor went back to bickering.  

 

Loki did not resurface for another few hours, and without anything else to do the other four had taken to sitting in front of the television, Tony tinkering on his cell phone, Thor’s arm wrapped around Nat’s shoulders while her legs were on Clint’s lap as he massaged her feet, something she was so glad he seemed comfortable doing because it felt like heaven.  Her whole body was relaxed when Loki entered the room, smiling down at her where she was sitting.  Her hands she’d tried folding in her lap, though they felt oddly heavy and almost misaligned, as though going so long without action had caused them to tense up.  Perhaps it had.  

“What movie?” Loki asked.

“The Lord of the Rings, the second one.”  Nat smiled.  

“It is quickly becoming one of my favorites!” Thor said with a grin so wide it hurt Nat’s cheeks to see it.  “The Rohirrim remind me very much of home.”

Loki’s smile was softer than Nat expected as she looked up at him.  “Aye.  Me too,” he reached a hand to grasp Nat’s shoulder.  “When you’re ready we can begin again,” he offered.

“Can I see the rest of the movie?”  She asked, smile small and timid, enough to make Loki mirror the softness in her eyes, nodding his head before taking a seat on the floor in front of her even as Thor offered to switch places with him.  Loki simply shook his head, citing quietly that he didn’t want to be a bother before he placed himself just below Nat.  She couldn’t help but push back the thoughts that came with looking down at him, rubbing her heated cheeks to try and get them to calm down.  Clint cast a sideways glance at her and smirked.  

Closeness.  Intimacy.  That’s what Loki said they needed for this to work.  She pulled away from both of the men at her sides, shifting so that her legs planted themselves on either sides of his shoulders.  As the movie neared the epic battle that it all seemed to be leading up towards Natasha slowly wound her hands in Loki’s hair, threading his soft black locks through her fingers, massaging his scalp, glad to find that his hair was softer than it looked.  He melted under her hands, shoulders loosening as she played with his hair, glad for her restless fingers having something to do.  He bent his head back, laying it on her lap as she eased her fingertips across his skin, raking her nails so that he shuddered and gasped beneath her.  He looked up to catch her gaze, smirking to see that she’d stopped watching the movie in favor of watching him instead.  His eyes, dark in the dim lighting, were thick with lust and his mouth parted to drag his tongue over his bottom lip.  

She was finding that she had a hard time breathing.  Oh.  Well then.  She gave a quiet, breathy laugh that reached his ears and his alone, before turning her attention back to the movie.  She said she would finish it, dammit, and she was resolved to, no matter how his fingers began to trace up the inseam of her jeans, how he turned his head to kiss the soft underside of her knee, brushing his cheek against the worn fabric.  A low heat started in her groin at seeing him down there and she tried not to shudder under his grip, remembering how his pants had tented earlier at the use of his own magic.  Was he using more of it now to turn her on the way he was, or was it all her?  She wouldn't have doubted that, having been attracted to him since having met him the first time, but really it was just getting ridiculous now.  She tried pressing her thighs together, to get some sort of friction, though Loki stayed firmly between them, nuzzling her other knee as his fingers slipped up the edges of her pants, playing with the smooth skin he found there.  Nat was glad that, whatever had been happening before she'd lost her memories, at least she'd shaved and the hair hadn't grown back so much so that it was aggravating.  As his fingertips began to slip further upwards Nat's grip on his hair tightened slightly, making him let out the softest of moans.  

Interesting.  

She went back to rubbing his scalp, bringing her nails against his flesh every so often until he was shivering in her hands, and then only once he seemed absorbed in the story did she tug his hair once more.  Again, the same soft moan came from his lips.  

She hardly noticed the guys on either side of her exchanging knowing glances and secretly sneaking off, Thor excusing himself to the bathroom, Tony and Clint disappearing not long after, even if the latter wasn't entirely pleased.

Well, they'd weren't about to complain.  

Loki climbed up into her lap soon after, taking advantage of the emptied couch as he laid her down gently on the soft, comfortable surface, angling his arm under her head so that she wouldn't get a crick in her neck.  Wasn't he sweet?  His mouth pressed hard to hers, tongue slipping past her own parted lips as he cupped the side of her face and devoured her whole.  She whimpered beneath him, her body going lax underneath his, responding to his every touch, his hands caressing her throat, breasts, hips, flicking underneath the hem of her shirt to toy with the soft, bared skin, hiking it up higher to try and slip it off.  If he'd wanted intimacy, Natasha thought as she slipped her arms around his neck and tugged him close, angling her hips upwards so that her hips ground against his, feeling his need right where her own heated the apex of her thighs, well then he was getting it.  

They did nothing else but kiss, breaking apart only as the end of movie credits began rolling, and Nat gave a low whine of complaint.  

"You made me miss the movie," she teased, her cheeks flushed as she turned back to him.  "Ass."

Loki just grinned.  "I'm about to make you miss more than just that," he teased, dipping his head to nip at her throat, taking the skin between his teeth and sucking hard enough to bruise and make her writhe beneath him.  

Then, as soon as he was atop her, he was off and across the room, winking.  "We've got some more work to do, c'mon."

Oh.  That ass.  She bit back a groan of displeasure as she forced herself up, muttering at how cruel a trick that was before following him.  Fine.  He could be that way if he wanted, not sparing a smile for him as he held the door open for her.  Two could play this game of give and take, and she fully intended to give as good as she got.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay between chapter updates--things are getting absolutely insane over here, what with the end of the semester coming up and all of my classes having enormous papers due in them. Well, mostly. 3/4 have huge papers. Anyway--I'll try and figure this ending out and update this ASAP. Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning: this is the point in the story where the rating goes up to M, not for the usual sexual reasons, but the material from here on out will be a little darker.   
> Well, maybe not a little, but this is the starting point.   
> Either way hope you enjoy!

They continued the flirtation for the days that they spent together in the future, and as Loki had suggested had taken to sleeping in the same bed.  She wasn’t sure whether or not the intimacy was working, if she was honest with herself, as the process seemed to be going about the same speed as it had before, with snippets of her memories coming back after each session, leaving her exhausted and slumping bonelessly against him as he sat next to her during dinner, a movie, or even the rare occasion they’d have to just relax in one another’s presence.  He’d take her to bed, and oftentimes she was too exhausted to do much else than kiss him before promptly passing out.  He never pushed her, more than good about that she supposed, and it wasn’t until the end of the first week that she’d felt as though they’d made any progress.  He’d just laid her back on the same table as before, his hands massaging her temples, drawing runes into her skin as he hummed softly to himself the same tune he’d picked up the last few days.  Every so often she could pick up a word, but this time her attention wasn’t on the noises coming from his mouth but the way her stomach twisted as her mind turned inward.  Turned to the scene now flashing in front of her eyes.  

 

“Faster, Natalia.  You must be much quicker than that.”  The heavyset man standing in front of her said, his brow pulled tight and his hands clenched in front of him as he watched her turn the lock in her hand over and over again.  She tasted blood from where he’d struck her before, the sticky red liquid running down the side of her mouth as she pushed a strand of hair away and tried to work the piece of wire into the large lock in front of her, wiggling it as quickly as she could as she tried to hit all the right places to make it undo.  It was a basic lock, and she’d thought her pick was far better than it obviously was.  She’d told Ivan so, or rather he’d caught her showing the other girls the basics of how to create one and had decided to test her.  When she’d spluttered and tried to take it back he’d hit her, and there she was then, in the center of the deep red colored room, her hands shaking so hard it really was a miracle that she didn’t drop the thick iron lock in her hand.  Her palms were sweating so hard, the stench of iron and fear only intensifying as she clutched the slick metal and tried, again, to undo it, begging to God, to anyone.  All she needed was for it to pop open--.

It did, the soft click as sweet as what she imagined an angel’s song would be, and with a wide grin she showed Ivan that she’d done it!  She’d picked the lock!

For such a large man he moved remarkably fast, and she fell backwards as he clocked her this time, hitting her head hard, the wire and lock falling from her hand before his boot crashed down on her right hand.  She shrieked, feeling bone break beneath his weight, and when he twisted she howled again, her back bent double and stars popping in front of her vision.  

“I told you that you must be quicker,” he snarled, and when she looked up at him he no longer looked like the man she’d seen before, but a monster, bloody mouthed and snarling down at her, eyes black and beady and looking ready to eat her alive as she opened her mouth to scream and scream and--.

 

Natasha’s eyes snapped open as she shouted and gave a start, Loki barely managing to avoid getting hitting by how quickly she moved.  Her hand smarted, as though she remembered just what it was like to feel every bone in it being broken, as though the old injuries were coming back now.  Wide eyed and trembling she turned to the white-faced god, who looked livid as he stared at her shaking figure.  

“Th--that was me,” she stumbled over the words.  “And Ivan he--he’s the one who trained me but there was something wrong--did you see?”

“No, I didn’t see it” Loki said quietly, and as his mouth set into a tight line of disapproval she saw one of his hands clench the corner of the table as his imagination likely filled in the gaps.  “Is the man . . . well, I suppose you won’t know whether he’s dead or not.  The one who did all this to you.”

She shook her head and turned away from him, pulling her knees up to her chin as she buried her head in the gap created, forcing herself to take shuddering, deep breaths.  To breathe.  She could do that, breathe, couldn’t she?  There was no Ivan, no black-eyed monster to come get her.  Was it possible that he was supernatural?  She wished she knew, wished she had some idea whether or not that was all part of the scene or . . . .

She couldn’t shake that somehow that part felt different.  Wrong.  She couldn’t explain it but she was near certain that she hadn’t been trained by the supernatural, just the incredibly vicious and wicked.  So then what the hell was that?  

“You didn’t recognize the face he took on, did you?  The bloodied mouth and dark eyes?” She mumbled to the safety of her lap.  Loki murmured again that he hadn’t seen anything, and as she relaxed Nat let out a loose, shuddering sigh.  Right.  Well hopefully it just meant that was part of her memories, then.  She’d ask Barton about it later, she supposed, not really wanting to think about it at the moment.  

“Do you wish to continue?” Loki asked.  “We’ve made decent headway so far,” he assured her with an understanding smile.  “But there might be more to find.  I think we’re on to something.”  His hand had moved to cover up one of her own, and she turned her hand to squeeze his tightly, gratefully.  

“Just give me a few minutes and we’ll continue.  Promise.”

The image wouldn’t get out of her head, however, persisting no matter how Loki told her to clear her mind, to try and make it go blank.  As if it were really that easy, she couldn't help but snark back, gritting her teeth as it got harder and harder to make it go away.  He’d squeeze her shoulder, promise her that she was doing well, but not well enough.  She wanted to be doing better, wanted to be able to focus on getting her memories back, but she might as well have been trying to catch these memories in a jar and open them up herself.  

“Natasha you’re so close,” Loki said, voice starting to really get on her nerves as he kept prodding, pushing her to go further and do more.  Couldn’t he see, or sense or whatever, that she was doing the best she could?  Her jaw clenched as she looked up at him.  

“I’m trying, Loki.  I’m doing all that I can,” she said, tone far more biting than she’d intended, but what the hell had he expected?  His own gaze flashed with annoyance, and he scowled as he pulled away from her, removing the pale purple stones he’d laid on her temple and collarbone to try and aid in her concentration.  She sat up quickly and dropped her head into her hands, squeezing her head as tight as she could get.  Why was it so damn difficult to focus?

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice quiet as she brought her head up to look at him.  He was carefully putting things back where they belonged, not looking at her while he did it.  His shoulders did relax with her words, though, and she stood slowly and moved to take one of his hands in her own.  This should’ve been getting easier, not harder.  

“It’s not your fault,” he promised.  “It’s just a difficult concept that you were doing so well, and now it’s as though your mind has completely shut down.  Strange.  What did you see?” He asked, curiosity getting the best of him.  She didn’t blame him, having not been very descriptive aside from the parts that terrified her, and so instead tried to rattle off just what the scene had been, how the man’s mouth had suddenly become covered in blood, how he no longer looked like himself but--.

Well, he looked like a monster.  

All the while she talked Loki moved his hands over her shoulders, humming softly, as though checking for something.  “You’ve not had any sort of supernatural tampering,” he said finally as he pulled away to stand in front of her, his brow pulled tight in concentration and confusion.  “So whatever it was must have been part of your imagination."

"So it wasn't real?" She asked, daring herself to feel hopeful even if it was for a short amount of time and almost seemed hollow.

"No. It wasn't. Not that I could sense." Loki assured her with a smile. She wasn't sure what to make of it and so responded with a smile of her own. It was what he wanted to see.

They disbanded from it a little while later, Natasha excusing herself to the bathroom with a muffled apology.  Once the lock had clicked behind her and the hot water poured from the shower head, steaming up the room and fogging the mirrors, Natasha crumbled.  She braced her hands on either side of the porcelain sin, and even as the room warmed considerably she still felt cold, clammy, still shook as though she was shivering.  She hadn’t been having issues with her memory before, so why then was this causing problems?  It wasn’t fair for this to happen, especially so suddenly. Everything else had been going fine, without issue, and then this?  

 _‘Pull yourself together, Romanov,’_ she scowled to herself, and somehow the words felt familiar, as though she’d heard them before a thousand times over.  With it came another flash of memory, the pain and shock enough to force her knuckles to whiten where she’d clutched the countertop as well as to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from screaming out.  She sat in an empty, dirty alleyway, bleeding heavily from a wound in her left shoulder while she snarled and held a gun up at the man in front of her, his bow drawn, yet lowering, as her eyes narrowed.  

“C’mon,” the man said, exchanging the arrow pointed at her head for a hand extending to help her up.  

Half a minute.  Half a minute and neither of them moved, said anything.  Barely breathed.  

She dropped the gun and took his hand in hers, allowing him to bring her up to his level.  

The next scream managed to birth itself from her lips as she saw the same bloodied mouth and cruel black eyes, and his hand gripped her all the tighter, shaking her voice, deep as it snarled her name--.

Clint stared at her, narrowly avoiding the blow that would have broken his nose.  He was repeating something as he enveloped her in his arms, keeping her tight to him not only to try and give her some comfort but so that she couldn’t lash out again.  It made her heart run all the faster, especially when she noticed that there was blood on his shirt. Terrified that she’d scratched him, she looked over to the doorway where the others had congregated, trying to splutter out an apology.  They looked terrified and shocked and sympathetic all at the same time, and the apology she tried to make died in her throat when she caught sight of herself in the edge of the still mostly fogged mirror.  Bloody tears dripped down her face, filling the creases of her lips before falling onto Clint’s shirt, and she stared at herself in horror before the screams started anew.  

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, a warning about the way this story is headed: we're moving into M territory, this time for the usual smutty reasons as well as others.

The shouts of the archer were impossible to miss as he demanded explanation from Loki about why--how--when did it happen and what the fuck was even happening?  He cracked his hand decking the demigod when Loki suggested Natasha and himself weren’t close enough, the former spy able to hear it in the next room.  Though they’d been making good progress, Natasha thought, it wasn’t enough to keep her brain from overloading itself as it fought to keep up, without anyone else Natasha’s subconscious thought was strong or close enough to her to carry some of the burden of her memories.  There was only so much that magic could do, after all, according to Loki.  Physical proximity, creating new bonds as well as maintaining old ones, all were important to the process.  

Clint instead put his fist through the wall, making Natasha jump, when Loki explained just how he proposed forming the strong bonds with Natasha.  That was going well.  She turned away from the noise of it all after that, not wanting to be the cause for any more fighting, but every time she closed her eyes all she could damn well see was the bloodied gums and teeth of Ivan--of Clint--of whatever, and the black teeth.  Was it just a result of them not being close enough, she wondered?  Loki didn’t seem to think so, though perhaps once all her memories were back it would be in the past.  She certainly hoped.  And if she lost the memories of the monster in the process . . . well she wouldn’t mourn, would she?  

Loki found her huddled in bed, a book in front of her that she wasn’t quite reading, but more or less looking at for the lack of something better to do.  It didn’t help to take her mind off, but at least it looked as though she wasn’t ready to be disturbed.  

“Are you doing alright?” He asked, voice quiet as he stepped towards her, movements slow and telegraphed even if her back was to her.  She appreciated it, not bothering to mark the page as she shut the book and placed it to the side, sitting up to look at him.  She let the sheet shift off of her, revealing that she wasn’t wearing anything, and Loki’s eyes did a double take as he fixated on her bare breasts.  She swallowed hard, watching as he forced himself to return his gaze to her own, and she offered him a smile as she held out her hand.  The smile was shaky at best, and it was all she could do to keep her arm from being the same.  

“Natasha, what’re you doing?”  Loki asked, voice thick with concern as he stepped towards her, taking her hand in his.  He frowned.  “Your skin is freezing.”  

“I need you to help me, Loki,” she said.  “I want . . . I heard what you said.  About the physical proximity not being enough.  I mean, it’s what you started saying from the beginning.  If we want this to work then some level of intimacy is required.”

“I didn’t say it to force you into something--.”  Even as his heart pounded through his veins and his gaze swept back over her breasts.  She arched her back slightly and watched as his adam’s apple bobbed.  

“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” she promised, pulling him a little closer.  Why did it feel like this was simply muscle memory?  Even as her fingers roved upwards, traced over the finely toned parts of his abdomen, felt the muscle beneath the skin as she ran her nails over his, she couldn't help but feel as though she'd done it a hundred times over.  Maybe not with him, but with others.  

At least this time she would enjoy it, she was certain.  It was of her own volition, her own choice as she’d told him, and she looked forward to it.  Loki shuddered and his eyes grew glassy as he watched her cheeks flush under his attention, though her own gaze never lowered.  Her lips found his, pushing pas them with her tongue as she had a half dozen or so times. He tasted sweet and of confusion, as if he still wasn’t convinced of what they were doing, even if he’d been the one to suggest it.  At least he was sweet enough to make sure he’d never pressured her, she supposed.  One of her hands snaked down past the top of his jeans, massaging him through the fabric as he shuddered beneath her attention.  Actions always seemed to work better than words anyway.  His shirt was easy to shuck off when they parted for breath, and she tugged him closer with a hand on his hair when they finally pressed together once more.  He leaned atop her when she pulled him far enough, bucking her hips up against his and grinning when he moaned, low and guttural.  The noise reverberated inside her.  

“Still having second thoughts?”  She teased, gasping for oxygen.  

“Shut up,” he muttered, drawing a line from her lips to her throat with his teeth and tongue.  She shuddered and her hands found his belt, slipping it off from his jeans and tossing it to the side, his pants following shortly afterwards.  He didn’t believe in underwear, apparently, and Nat just couldn’t find it in her to complain.  She’d been looking forward to this for so long, looking forward to exploring the strong connection that had thrummed so deeply inside them for so long, crescendoing into a roar that deafened her.  

She was slick enough that, as she wrapped her legs around his hips, he filled her right up without any issue.  She gasped, eyes wide and his groan was shared between them both, her name ghosting over her skin as he kissed down her throat.  It was exquisite, better than the making out they’d done, better than falling asleep together.  

“Wh-why haven’t--hng--we done this before?”  She gasped the last word as he pulled out from inside her, then thrust back in.   Her ankles locked behind him, drawing him even further to her with a whimper.  

“Hush,” he teased.  “Just enjoy.”  He shot her a half grin as he moved once more within her.  She whimpered, biting down on her bottom lip as he kissed and nipped at her neck and collarbone.  She’d have marks the next day, marks that would inflame Clint she was certain.  Perhaps that was what Loki was going for, the added bonus, driving into her at such a quick pace it was all she could do to hold on.  Her nails left half moons on hs back, the marks red and nearly cutting the skin as her whimpers grew in volume.  

“So tight,” he groaned in her ear, hips snapping against hers harder, the blunt head of his cock hitting a bundle of nerves deep inside her.  She didn’t know she could feel this way, but at least her body knew how ot react, falling into an easy, fast rhythm that Loki set without issue.  Her whimpering turned into a low keen of pleasure as she felt something strange starting to overcome her.  

“L-Loki,” she stuttered, feeling her cheeks heating up when his eyes fixed on hers, mouth hanging open.  What the hell was happening?  “I think--I don’t know what’s--.”

He grinned and kissed her deep.  “Come on, love.  Come for me.”  

Her question was cut off as he angled his hips downward once more, hitting that same, strange bundle of nerves.  At the same time one of his hands moved between them, thumb pressing hard against her clit.  

Her vision whited out as she felt her body tighten around his, back arching and his name forced out of her throat in a choked scream as he hurried to join her.  She felt hot, too hot for her skin, and aching in the best sort of ways in the strangest of places, her chest and head hurting the moment.  As her vision went white she thought she saw a hundred or so different faces flash before her eyes, some of them familiar--Clint, Ivan from the Red Room, a man she knew only as Winter Soldier from one of her other memories, but most of them blurred together.  

She was shaking when she finally came down to her body, Loki trembling inside of her as he stilled and fought to catch his breath.  When he pulled out of her she let him go with a loud, almost pained groan, and the onslaught of memories ceased immediately.  Curious, but she didn’t have the mind to consider it.  Not then.  No, she felt the exhaustion hit her as though she’d been slammed into by a truck, her eyes draping halfway as she watched him roll off to the side.  She grinned.  

“I ask you again,” she slurred the last two words.  “Why didn’t we do that before?”  

 

She fell asleep soon after, Loki having used magic to clean them off, and this time she dreamt of the past.  At least, she thought so.  It felt that way, familiar in a strange, nostalgic sort of sense, but everything was just a little too dark, as though someone had turned down the sun and the stars, and the lights around them.  A man sat in front of her that wasn’t supposed to be there, his dark curled hair an unruly mess atop his head, dark bags under his eyes showing how little sleep he’d gotten, and when he looked up at her his eyes were as black and beady as the ones that Ivan had had prior.  Even in her dream she felt her heart speed up, her body go tense, as he rose from the bed he’d sat on and stepped towards her with even footsteps.  

“You’re a tricky one to get alone,” he said, voice deeper than it ought to have been.  She would’ve guessed his age around early twenties, yet he sounded as though he’d come from the dawn of time, each word ringing with an awful finite nature, his footsteps echoing the steady drum of her heart.  

“You shouldn’t be here.”  She said, and she, too, sounded far too young to her own ears, as though she was a child again.  Her feet dragged her backwards, away from the encroaching man, and as he neared she found herself having to look up to him.  Her brain struggled to wrap around the realities of the situation as she swallowed her fear and struggled to put on a brave face.  He snagged her chin in his cold, clammy hand and tightened his grip.  She shuddered.  

“I was put here to bring chaos, and so chaos you shall become.  You’re so close now.”  His lips parted in a horrifying mimic of a grin, teeth blackened with old blood and his eyes bugging and near popping out of his skull as he leered down at her.  Her lips opened to scream but no noise came out, even as the oxygen left her lungs and they cried out for more.  His hand holding her chin forced itself into her mouth, tightened on her tongue as though he meant to pull it out, and--.  

 

She flipped Loki onto his back, her hand pressing hard against his steel coated windpipe as she snarled down at him, hair falling into her face as her thighs tightened on either side of his hips.  

The very real fear in his eyes was more than enough to snap her out of it, and she scampered back away from him so quickly she fell off the bed, a tangle of trembling limbs and whimpers that threatened to escape her naked form lying prone on the ground.  The noise had attracted the attention of the other guys, who burst into the room just as Loki had joined Natasha on the ground, trying to coax her into his arms.  She wasn’t having any of it, yet this time when Clint tried to move him, thinking he might be able to pull off the feat once more, Loki refused to budge.  He closed in on Natasha as she pulled her knees up to her chest and sobbed, sniffling into the privacy of her lap as she took fistfulls of hair and tugged.  If she felt pain it was real--it had to be--right?

 

Loki’s eyes were beaded and blacked and he lunged for her when she finally forced herself to look back up.  

 

She woke up to bloody palms and Loki trying to shake her away as she blinked back furious tears of pain, her eyes darting around.  Was she awake?  

Would she ever be again?  And how the hell was she supposed to be able to tell?  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I confess to being a huge Teen Wolf fan, so if anyone is up to date with the current season you might have an idea of what's going on and what's coming up =] Hope you enjoyed it so far!


	10. Chapter 10

The nightmares didn’t stop after the first incident, and Natasha was beginning to run low on energy.  She was doing everything she could not to fall asleep, yet Loki insisted that so long as she was beginning to get her memories back then the negative effects of it would soon be over.  He hoped.  He didn’t have to say it, but she could see the doubt flash in his eyes every time he told her that.  She tried harder to focus on Loki, to pay attention to the memories that felt real, though more often than not she found herself feeling more awake in the dreams and exhausted in reality, as though her real life was the false one, the one sucking all the energy from her.  Loki thought that more sleep might help, but the more she slept, the more she dreamt of the demon with beady eyes, the more often she awoke screaming, panting and out of breath from a monster that didn’t exist, and the more frustrated she got when she woke up feeling even more exhausted than when she’d gone to sleep.  

“Is it always going to be like this?”  She asked, barely stifling a yawn as Loki’s hands rubbed at her back.  She was so tense all the time that he hoped something more relaxing might be able to help keep the memories flowing.  They were coming, just not near fast enough, as though something was blocking them.  He suspected it was part of the spell or the serum or whatever it was that had taken the memories from her to begin with, but everything he’d tried to counter it had failed.  Most days Natasha wasn’t sure who was more frustrated with it all: her, or Loki.  

“I imagine not.  Your mind is going through a great deal of strain, though.  It is not abnormal for you to be so spent after we try to recover your memories,” he said.  

“But there is something wrong.”  

He sighed, and she could feel his warm breath ghost over the back of her neck.  “The visions you continue to have.  What are they like again?”

She swallowed.  They’d gone over this a hundred times, it felt, and still he asked her again and again to recount them, as though hoping to glean something else from each separate retelling.  From what she’d been able to tell, so far nothing had worked.  

“There’s always the same boy--he looks like a teenager.  He always tells me I’m close.  I don’t know what to.  His eyes are black, his teeth are sharp and covered in blood, like his hands.  He grabs for me, catches my face and opens his mouth like he’s going to swallow me whole.  He says he’s chaos.”  She swallowed the bile rising in her throat, felt herself quivering beneath Loki’s touch, even as he reached for her hands and took them into his own.  

“Close to what?”  He asked.  

She shook her head.  He never said explicitly, never explained it, only repeated the sentiment until she was certain she’d suffocate under his assertions and his determination.  “Do you think it’s for the best that we continue on with me regaining my memories?  Maybe it’s a bad idea.  If this keeps happening, and you don’t know--.”

“Not to repeat what he says, but we are so close to you already regaining all of your memories.  If we do not, I cannot see this man, or phantom, or whatever it is disappearing.  If he haunts you due to your proximity to your truth and your former self, then he ought to disappear when you reach it.  The others say you have never had any similar nightmares when you were yourself, before this, so this is likely a phantom brought on by the stress to remember who you were and will disappear once you regain it.”

Or it would only get worse when whatever it was got what it wanted.  If it wanted her when she was close, what would happen when she got it?  

She didn’t say anything about it, and they continued on with Loki’s treatments, Natasha beginning to piece everything together.  She was born in the twenties, raised in Russia by Ivan Petrovich in a training facility known as the Red Room.  Trained by the Winter Soldier, she quickly rose in the ranks of the Black Widow training program, and after the apparent death of her lover and would-be husband, Alexei, she submitted herself into the Super Soldier Serum project.  

It had been successful.  

Everything from there, however, was akin to pulling teeth.  Her current life, where she’d been with the Avengers and with Clint she could remember in bits and pieces, and Loki ground his teeth together as she’d come to shaking after every session.  She’d stopped screaming days ago, her old training kicking in, forcing her to keep it in.  

“You’re so close, Natasha,” Loki assured her, stroking her hair gently as she laid back down, determined to go for one more round, one more.  He was certain this time would be the last, and she certainly hoped so.  Her head ached, despite the tea he’d made her that was supposed to take it away, as though it could sense the incoming storm that was supposed to be her memories.  She wasn’t sure if she ought to have been looking forward to fitting the final pieces of everything together, or just being done with it all.  One curt nod later, and he’d closed his eyes and started chanting softly again, drawing his hands over her temples as she closed her eyes and did all she could to relax.  

 

_“I knew you’d come back.  You’re almost there.”  His breath was hot in her ear, sending shivers of disgust up her spine as she turned around to come face to face with the same bastard, his gaze lecherous as he caught her by the chin and squeezed.  “You’ve been running from this for too long and now?  Now you’re mine.”_

_She opened her mouth to shout, to tell him to fuck off, aimed a kick at him, but her blows sunk through him as though his was nothing.  One of his fingers shoved itself into her throat until she gagged and he allowed her to drop to her knees, bile burning as she convulsed and trembled on her place on the floor, nails scratching the concrete surface.  Rather than vomit, something black, and tar like spewed from her lips, and her eyes widened in horror as it started to smoke and rise.  When her body emptied itself and she was pale and shaky, she sat back on her heels, gasping for breath and watching as something began to rise._ Someone _who looked a whole hell of a lot like--._

_She screamed for Loki, screamed to warn him, screamed to say something--.  No sound came out.  The Natasha in front of her smirked, one of her legs kicking out and striking her hard across the face so that everything went dark._

 

The Natasha on the table opened her eyes and blinked once, twice, each time deliberately slowly as she focused on the world around her and the god standing just above her, murmuring her name.  She could feel the power surging from him and gave a soft, almost pleasured hum at the feeling of his fingertips on her skin.  Yes.  He would work very nicely.  She’d seen the way that the Natasha that had come before had lusted over him for some time, unaware of what true power he held.  But she could sense it.  Beneath his fingers she could feel the hundreds of years of knowledge and strength and pure power that he wielded, and she soaked it up as though it were the sun’s rays before his own eyes opened and he stared down at her.  Her lips pulled upwards in a smile that was perhaps a little more predatory than she’d expected, giving the surprise that flashed on his face before he reigned himself back in.  

“Natasha?”

“Mm, hello Loki,” she purred, rubbing his hands with her cheek gently.  “Though I think I’d like it better if you called me Natalia.”  

Without waiting for him to pull away or respond she sat upwards and caught his lips in an upside down kiss, tipping her head to the side to gain a better angle on it, gripping the back of his neck to keep him cemented.  She was stronger than he was expecting given how weakly he fought against it at first, but eventually he managed to pry himself away from her.  She flipped her legs onto one side and rose with little care to the popping of her bones or the creaking of her muscles as she strode closer to him, watched as his gaze grew worried, and then wary as she encroached further.  

“Who are you?” He demanded, and once more Natalia could feel the power as it rolled off of him sure as the waves on a beach.

She twisted her lips into that of a sneer, and her head tipped to the side, red hair spilling over the side of her shoulder.  His face flickered with surprise when she summoned her own power, and though he was strong and ancient she was far older, her spirit feeding on Natasha’s own pain and the chaos that had dictated her life and her actions for so long.  The blast of energy caught Loki in the stomach, sending him crashing through three walls and straight into that where the other Avengers had congregated.  

Natalia smirked and turned on her heel, breathing in the pandemonium that followed before she disappeared down the stairs.  She had chaos to create.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay on updates, but I hope this makes up for it! We're finally getting to the good stuff :DD Thanks so much for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! :DD

Explaining what had happened, as it turned out, was far more difficult and complicated than Loki liked or thought it ought to be, especially now that Natasha--or Natalia, he supposed she wanted to be called now--was on the loose.  They didn’t have much time to waste, not that Barton seemed to understand that, or care.  He questioned Loki over and over about why the hell Natasha had blown a hole through the wall, how did she have that power (a question Loki wanted to know as well), and just what Loki had done to piss her off when things had at least been progressing.  

“Look, Barton,” Loki interrupted, face contorting into a snarl as he cut off the archer as they got nowhere with his idiotic questions.  “You need to believe me when I tell you I didn’t do anything wrong!  Right now we ought to be focusing on--.”

“Hey, guys?”  Stark asked and Loki nearly lost it at being interrupted again.  Tony pointed to the television.  “Should we be worried or doing something about this?”  

The television's channel had switched to show a series of car accidents close the hotel, so many in such a short span of time that the police weren’t able to respond quickly enough.  They led out of the city, towards the freeway, some involving civilians, others enormous, multi-car pileups that kept traffic at a complete standstill.  Loki’s heart thudded heavily in his chest.  She’d wanted chaos, hadn’t she?  Well, she’d certainly gotten it, and something told him that this was only the beginning of it.  

Something else, a deeper, darker part of him, cried to join with her.  He was the prince of mayhem, the god of discord and destruction after all, and this madness?  It called to him.  Sang siren songs that filled and heated his blood as he caught sight of a flash of red hair in one of the videos.  

He swore.  

“Where are they leading?”  He demanded, moving to snag Tony’s phone.  He tried tracking them, tracing where they’d hit and where she’d likely be going based on where she'd been.  Closer and closer to the airport.  If she got away--.  

“We have to stop her.  She’s possessed by something--something that might have been there before I was.  I was right in assuming that whatever had taken her memories was related to magic, and they imprinted something else into her mind that was being activated by her memories coming back.”  He said, his words coming out far quicker than he’d meant.  Oh well, they had to learn to catch up with him.  Honestly, if they’d just listened to him to begin with.  “Now, if she makes it to the airport then we’ll be out of luck to try and find her, so we have to get there first.”  

“That’s your plan?”  Barton asked, eyes narrowed.  

“You have a better one?”

“Maybe.”  

Fair enough.  

 

Tony managed to make a few calls and shut the airport down while the others suited up, Loki's fingers tapping nervously on his side as Clint called in the nearest Shield station, dispatching their agents to hold her off as best they could.  Once they found her.  The way she'd looked at him before blasting him as though she'd expected he would follow her.  Perhaps in his youth he would have.  Whatever it was Natalia had become, had he not been similar before?  Had he not called chaos and destruction his own bedfellows?  He'd attempted to level a planet, destroy a town without any provocation.  What Natalia was doing felt like child's play.  

And she knew it.  

Whatever had been planted within her, he guessed from the description she'd given him--the black eyes, bloody mouth, the exhaustion that followed her every day that it was old.  Dormant.  And now that it was free, well the first thing he would do was--.

"She's luring us there," he finally said, catching at least Steve and Thor's attentions.  "She knows if we all go we'll cause the maximum amount of damage.  It's in her best interest to round us all up."  

Steve paused.  "Yes, but it's also in ours.  She threw you through a wall--."

"When I wasn't expecting it."

"Vanity shouldn't get in the way of doing what needs to be done."  Steve's voice deepened, plainly used to giving orders and not taking them.  

"It's not--look.  Let me go ahead.  I can get there fastest."  

"No, we do this as a team."  

Loki's jaw tightened.  Now who was vain?  Did the supposed Captain not listen to anyone else's council other than his own?  Idiot.  Thor stepped closer to Loki, one enormous hand clapping the slighter man on the shoulder.  It only incensed Loki further, his fists growing tight.  Did Thor think he was a boy again?  Think of him only as a child, one who would be so easily quieted and subdued?

"Fuck it."

He disappeared from beneath Thor's grip, reappearing just within the walls of the airport parking garage.  His fingers itched for his staff, but before he considered an attack he would take stock, take a breath.  He knew that already the Shield agents were being brought in, shutting and cancelling flights, rerouting those that were supposed to come in.  Good, Containment would at least lessen the damage he knew was to come, green eyes searching the lot before heading to the enormous building.  If he were the one coming to wreak pain and havoc, where would be start?  

His eyes lighted on the security guards.  Though they were not equipped with guns, the men and women checking them over from Shield were  Quickest way to cause panic?

The gun went off as soon as he flexed his wrist, and though it missed a target by a scant few inches, the noise was enough to set off a panic, the Shield officers shouting at the agent whose gun had discharged into the wall.  

She would enter herself in the panic, the shouting of the aircraft employees and would be passengers screaming and shouting as they tried to escape.  The second shooting begun without his knowing, this time peppering the soldier whose gun it was with bullets from his own weapon.  The agents shouted, even Loki turned, disbelief making his face grow pale.  He caught sight of her then, sitting atop one of the counters, fingers clutching the hair of a trembling woman, her eyes a far darker hue than he was familiar with.  Her lips grew in a terrifying slash, tugging harder as the agent scratched and scrambled to escape.  

"It was stupid coming to me alone, Loki."  

"As if I could resist this."  He countered.  It was true.  The only reason he'd taken the police job, become Magnus, was the adrenaline rush.  The thrill of the hunt, the chase.  The kill, when it came to it.  Natalia knew that, and slid from her place on the counter, dragging the woman behind her, ignoring the shouts of pain and pleas for help.  They'd finally attracted the attention she wanted, but with a flick of her pinky finger each of the soldier turned on one another, throwing their weapons to the ground to rip at one another with bare hands.  

"What is it you want, Natalia?"

She dragged the woman up to her feet, placing her in front of her own body, a clear shield against the attack she anticipating coming.  Her lips grazed the flesh of the woman's neck, eyes flashing as the woman trembled beneath her, eyes red and watering.  "Chaos.  The same as you." Her words were hardly loud enough, but the meaning was plain behind her not-Natasha eyes.  "You're loving this, Loki.  The same as I."  Without warning she bit into the woman's flesh, ripping at the pulse point until her face was smeared with blood.  Rather than drop as Loki expected after the loss of blood, once released the woman ran and launched herself at one of the fleeing figures.  Loki could all but taste the fear, the discord, sweet as any grapes form Vanaheim, rich as the gold mines of the dwarven mountains, honeying his tongue and dulling his will to fight.  Dammit all.  

"What are you?"  He asked, stepping forward.  Focus, Loki.  Focus.  "You wear the skin of another with great familiarity yet we've not met.  How is it we entertain the same desires without knowing each other?"

"You think you alone embody a spirit that desires no master?"  She asked, smirking and taking a step closer.  The look on her face was too severe, too sharp to ever be Natasha.  "You are a fool.  There are many of us.  Thousands.  Looking for hosts as we are not all fortunate to be born in a permanent body such as yourself.  You have so much opportunity, Loki.  How is it you've thrown it all away?"  She looked furious for a moment, livid at his supposed opportunities and freedoms, and a pang of pain filled his chest, as though her anger was affecting him.  Perhaps it was, but then he could do the very same back to her.  And oh, did he have anger to spare.  

"You don't know the first fucking thing about me!"  He snarled, and this time it was his turn to step forward, wishing this spirit had picked someone, anyone else's skin to wear.  He couldn't strike Natasha, not knowing whether any pain inflicted on her body would be felt by her or not.  Natalia stared up at him, bloody mouthed and dry eyed and this.  This was what had drained Natasha of energy, had scared her so.  He wished to throw his fist into its face and never stop, not until it was gasping and gushing blood and pus and bile beneath him.  Instead he grabbed her by the collar, watched her glee grow.  "And you don't know what I am capable of doing, what I will do to you if you do not surrender Natasha to me.  I will offer to let you go so long as you release her.  Refuse and I will draw you from her and make you pay a thousand years for every second you are within her."

"Why should I?  Growing jealous that I have such a fun body to play with?"  Natalia asked, running her hands up and down her sides, cupping her breasts and licking her lips as she stared up at him.  In a move she must've learned from Nat's memories, she wrapped her legs around Loki's middle, flipped him to his back, and leaned over to draw her tongue over his cheek, hips rocking.  "Come now, Loki."  She crooned and he _hated_ how arousal hit him strong as a punch to the gut, stealing his breath and his sanity for the moment.  "You only got to explore the basic pleasures she can give you.  I'm a thousand years old with the experience to match.  Be my partner.  My _mate_ ," she moaned the word into his ear.  "The world could be ours in a matter of days."  She bit his earlobe and he shuddered.  She laughed and ground down on his already hard cock, making him gasp.  

The memories of Natasha he'd seen with her flashed through his mind: her growing up in the Red Room, being trained by the man known as Winter Soldier, the spiral of pain at her husband's death that led her to become the spy she was.  The fear and vulnerability in her eyes, though her body remained battle ready, as the archer extended a hand of friendship rather than one of his arrows into her chest.  

He summoned what strength he could and flipped her over, pinning her hands beneath one of his as his extra hands covered her eyes, pinning her hips down with his own to keep her from lashing out.  Containment.  He had to contain her.  She shrieked, a real, Natasha noise that made his heart ache.  

Or maybe that was the arrow that just notched itself in his left pectoral,.  

"Clint!"  Natasha's voice was trembling, raw and terrified.  "Clint don't let him kill me, please!  That's been his plan all along!"  

Oh, clever.  He hated to admit it, shouting for the archer not to listen while the not-Natasha cried and screamed for him to shoot the demigod down.  With the other Avengers working on containing the chaos around them, Loki watched as Clint notched another arrow and pointed it at him.  

"Do it!"  Nat screamed.  

_'No.'_

The next arrow took Loki in the gut, his spell to protect himself coming too late to do him any good.  

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, been a long enough wait for my stinkin' update? Sorry about that, and hope this is worth it! Thanks for sticking with me <3

When he woke Thor was the first thing he saw beside him, his head having fallen on his chest, rising and falling with his deep breaths.  There was a slight ache in his gut where Clint’s arrow had pierced him, tearing some of the muscle and internal organs, but he healed quick enough for it not to have been a concern.  Not that the archer had known, of course.  He couldn’t tell how much time had passed, only that there were handcuffs around his wrist, ones that he could break out of if he so desired.  Interesting that Thor had not told them so, that they were strong enough not to be held by such paltry bindings.  

“Thor,” Loki hissed, keeping just quiet enough to keep from alerting the others.  He hoped.  He didn’t want to think about what Natalia had done to turn them against him, and if Clint had done his best to kill him when he’d thought her in danger before, then it was nothing short of a miracle he was still alive and not subjected to the archer’s obsessive need to keep her safe.  The man he’d once called brother slept on, shifting slightly, which only made Loki’s scowl deepen.  Dammit all.  

“Brother, wake up, I need you,” he demanded through clenched teeth.

That certainly did the bloody trick.  Thor’s eyes snapped open, as though Loki’s call to him was all that could’ve woken him up, and it didn’t surprise him entirely.  He’d clung to the idea that he and Loki could find a way to put everything that had happened in the past, would keep to it no matter what.  Doubtless in Loki’s mind, it was likely the reason he was even still alive.  Had Barton not had Thor as a threat in the back of his mind the arrow might’ve lodged itself a little further, hitting his heart.  He’d seen what trick arrows the archer employed.  Aesir or not, one of those in the right place, with the right additive?  Could be fatal.  And it had been so long since he’d last had an apple from the gardens.  

“You’re awake,” Thor said with a concerned smile etched into his features, caught in the middle and unsure whether to be thrilled or worried.  “They said you planned it all from the start, that you were the one who attacked Natasha and implanted those false memories.  She’s been telling them that.”

“You know as well as I do that that is impossible.  I have been here the whole while,’ Loki snarled, feeling his anger surge in his belly.  How could Thor have let them believe that?  

“Aye, I do know this. I also know that the sooner whatever is within the Lady Natasha believes you are defeated, the sooner she will make her next move.  Planning ahead, Loki.  It’s what you would’ve done.”  

Well, color him impressed.  

It took them little more than a moment to break Loki of his manacles, the dark haired man rubbing his wrists as he stared at his brother, still so surprised that the man had been able to think ahead while Loki?  Well, he felt bloody blind sided, having underestimated Natalia’s motives and abilities.  

“So, what are we doing?”  Thor asked, eyes eager and hands growing tight on the rails that had once kept his brother captive.  Loki, as fate would have it, was drawing a blank.  

“What happened when I was asleep?”  Loki asked to draw the attention away from his lack of a plan.  

“Natasha--or Natalia as she prefers to be called now--is being held in a cell beneath the nearest SHIELD base, watched by their agents.  Despite everything she’s said they still don’t entirely trust her.  I was hoping you might go to speak with her.  Discover her endgame.”  Thor said with an affectionate smile.  “If anyone can figure it out it would be you.”  

Loki, for once, wasn’t so sure of that.  Having been privy to much of Natasha’s past, he’d watched her defeat foe after foe with nothing more than her words and the notions her opponents held of her to work against them.  He didn’t doubt she’d be able to read him like a damn child’s book, especially now.  She’d certainly figured out how he’d react to her and anticipated his actions at the airport.  With that second spirit inside of her he wasn’t so certain if it’d be more helpful for him to speak with her, or for him to stay far away.  

His gut clenched.  He doubted very much that he’d be able to keep away for long.  “Very well.  What else do we know for certain, Thor?”  He would need more than just her location.  “What do the others think, and what are they going to do to try and rectify the situation?”

“Clint Barton is keeping an eye on her.”  

“Well that don’t do much if he thinks I’ve possessed her and made her this way.  He certainly is protective.”  And he had a right to be, Loki supposed.  There was much that Natasha had been through before Barton had met her, and since then the archer had taken her under his wing, so to speak, had done everything he could to keep her safe.  That she’d been possessed and lost her memories under his watch?  Loki didn’t blame him for taking everything so poorly.  It was a blow not only to his ego, but to his sense of friendship with Natasha, to his ideals of him as protector, her as his ward, more or less, despite the evidence that supported she was more than able to take care of herself.  Thor gave an acknowledging nod at that.

“Anything else?  What about the Captain and Stark?”  

“Both are rather suspicious of Natalia, which is a good thing for us.  teven, I believe, will be an asset.  I can never say such things about Stark with certainty.”

“Awe, just when I thought you were beginning to warm up to me.”  Tony’s voice came from the doorway, neither Loki, nor Thor, having been paying attention to it.  Tony smirked as Thor immediately went on the defensive, the inventor winking at Loki.  “Your brother’s always had a soft spot for me ever since I tried absorbing his power into the suit.”

Loki rested a hand on Thor’s shoulder before the blond could retaliate.  “How can we help you, Stark?”  

“Well, it’s still us that needs your help, isn’t it?  Nat’s not exactly back to normal.”  He sighed.  “Don’t suppose you did do anything to her?”

“Outside of helping her regain her memories?”  Loki’s voice hardened.  “No.  Not a damn thing.  But do you believe that?”  

Thor stiffened beside Loki, fists clenching, wishing for Mjolnir’s familiar weight as he was cont to do when the hammer was out of his reach.  Loki, too, stood stock still as he surveyed the inventor before him, his mind a whirl of ideas and countermeasures.  Just in case.  This was a foe he could outdo, out perform, if it came to it.  He hoped it didn’t.  It would be nice to finally have another ally.  

“I was hoping you’d say yes, because it’d mean you’d have an idea how to get whatever is inside of her out.  I’m a man of logic and reason, Loki.  Of action and reaction.”  Tony started, his own eyes locking with Loki’s.  “”I take comfort in knowing that if I do one thing, add enough power to a weapon, alter the design of a turbine, there will be a specific reaction.  It’s nature, it’s science, it’s the laws of the universe that as much as I love breaking the rules, are outside my control.”  He sighed, running a hand through his already messed up hair, as if he’d done it half a dozen times before.  “I pride myself as reading a scientific solution and guessing the outcome given whatever the input that is provided.  This?”  He motioned at nothing with one of his hands. “I’ve got nothing.  So, I guess I don’t really have a choice.  If Nat’s gonna get better, it’s gonna be you that helps her.  Right?”  His gaze grew stony, lips pressed hard together. Not for the first time was Loki getting a sense of what Nat meant to the other members of her team, and it made his mouth run dry.  Fragmented though they might be, this was a team and Nat?  She pieced them together, latching onto them in turn and keeping them in place.  

Amazing how their dynamics continued to unfold.  Had he more time he’d have loved to study them.  “Right.”  Loki agreed, his nerves hardening as he pushed up from his place on the bed and cracking his neck as he turned it side to side.  “I suppose we should go see what there is to do, then.”  

“They aren’t exactly going to let you just walk in,” Stark said, snapping into action as soon as Loki had begun to edge around the room, picking up what effects had been on him when he’d been taken before transforming his outfit to a far more suitable, sleek Shield issued suit he’d seen the others wear.  His grin turned near devilish.  Now he had a plan.  

“Trickery, Mr. Stark,” he murmured as he turned back.  “And illusions are something of a speciality of mine.”  Before the inventor his face changed, though the green eyes remained.  Thor’s lips split into a wide grin, while Tony went stiff at the change.  

“God, I’m glad you’re on our side,” he muttered.  Something in the tone of his voice told Loki he was desperate to believe it was true.  

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for making you wait forever and a half for this! Hope you enjoy the update!

Tony and Thor distracted the guards that kept a watchful eye on Natasha long enough to slip Loki into their midst, the god’s magic solid as he slithered his way past the two men who were sizing up Thor and Tony, as though anticipating that they’d be the ones to pose the problems.  As if.  Tony ran his mouth off, trying to bet the largest man there that Thor could kick his ass six ways from Sunday in an arm wrestling match, saying that he was sure no one was a match for the Great God Thor, and while the agent might not have been believing it, his friend certainly was egging him on a great deal.  Loki had noticed the crazed look in his eye, and though he’d longed to call out to Thor, to warn him, he didn’t think his adopted brother would have any issue dealing with him.  Being too close to Natalia must’ve been affecting them more than they’d anticipated.  It was a wonder what she would do if they stayed any longer.  

The glass cage that she’d been enclosed in allowed her to see anything and everything that walked towards her, and allowed her no privacy either as a result.  That was a smart move, Loki had to admit, feeling her attention falling on him as he stepped closer, his body dressed in the suit of a SHIELD agent, footsteps measured and slow as he came to stand opposite her.  

“You know, these little talks that your Director thinks I need to have really are becoming the highlight of my day,” she mused, her back to him and her tone lilting, carefree.  He’d only heard Natasha like that once, in her fonder memories of her and her team actually spending time together.  She’d had a decent connection with the others, had garnered strong enough bonds that their attachment to her was warranted, and though they’d put her in the cage he could see that Clint, at the very least, had left her a few things.  A handful of books scattered the floor, some of them he’d seen before from the snippets of her past he’d gotten, the vision of them belonging on her bookshelves back in their home coming back to him.  

“I’m glad you’re enjoying them at the least.”  He said, his voice a different lilt.  Southern, he thought.  “Goodness knows you’re giving all of us a ride of a life.”

She laughed at that, and while he wanted to enjoy the sound of it it sent chills up his spine.  

“That’s what I’m here to do,” she said, turning around to stare at him, and stopped.  Her smile, if anything, grew wider, cracking the corners of her cheeks so that his own ached at the sight.  

“Clever, clever, _clever_ little Loki.  That’s who you are, isn’t it?”  She breathed deep, closing her eyes in mock adoration of whatever it was she could smell.  His magic, he guessed.  “I wasn’t sure what to think when I felt you come in but now?  Now this is fun.”  She stood from where she’d been sitting with her back to him, moving to stand opposite him, her stance mirroring his as her head tipped to the side with a strange, inhuman like grace, as though the bones in her body suddenly no longer obeyed the rules of earth.  He’d seen less grace in the movements of a serpent, ashamed to admit that even his skin broke out into goosebumps.  He took a deep breath, the glamor he’d used to get through their barricaded guards falling off his body like a gossamer sheet.  

“Why bother asking questions you know the answers to?” He asked, allowing himself a confident smile as he folded his hands behind his back.  “Natalia. You are so very clever yourself to turn them on me like that, to play on Barton and Natasha’s connection.”

She rolled her eyes.  “I knew he wouldn’t kill you.  Couldn’t kill you.  Wonder if I could.  Stick my damn hand right inside your chest and _squeeze_ ,” she gave a girlish laugh.  He gritted his teeth.  “But I think I might miss you.  Haven’t had this much fun in centuries.”  One of her hands pressed forward, and for half a terrifying second he expected her palm to press right through the glass.  She pouted, as though thinking it would, too.  “What else can I get into while you’re here?  What other chaos can I create?”

“You’ve already started.  You’re playing havoc with her life--isn’t that enough for you?”  He asked, already knowing the answer.  She knew it, too, and snorted.

“Show me how crafty you are, Loki.  If you bore me I’ll shout until Clint comes running to get me.  To save me,” she drawled the word.  “You know it’s almost pathetic how badly he wants to believe that I’m her, Natasha.  That he somehow managed to get the big bad sorcerer’s spell broken and I’ll come back to my senses.  Well, she’ll come back to her senses.”  He watched her face contort with a derisive laugh, watched the way that her eyes glinted in a way that wasn’t Natasha at all, that could only be something far darker, far older, than he might even have known about.  He catalogued that, needing at least something to figure out.  

“The last body I’d inhabited wasn’t nearly as much fun as this one.  He didn’t have near as many people that cared about him as she does.  Funny, how little she realizes her own worth when these men would go so far to try and get her back.”  

“What was the last person like?” Loki asked, curious.  “I’m assuming the amnesia is what first gets you into their heads.”  

“Yes, yes,” she waved her hand, stepping away from the wall with a roll of her eyes.  “You knew that, though.  Knew that the moment I started to resurface when her memories did.”

“So you’re the young gentleman she keeps dreaming about.”

Natalia gave another roll of her eyes, and it was a wonder, Loki thought, they didn’t fall from her skull.  

“Don’t play stupid with me, Loki.  You’re too smart for that.”

“On the contrary, you fascinate me.  They think I’m here to get her back but really?”  He copped a grin, his voice filled with conspiracy that made even her lean forward in curiosity.  “I want to know more about you.  Your offer.  It’s been playing on my mind.”  

“Has it?” She sounded like she didn’t believe him, but he pressed on, nodding.

“It’s not everyday I find a kindred spirit, and if what you say is true--that we’re not the only ones--then I want to know what else is out there.  I don’t belong here, on this earth the way it is.”  He allowed truth to enter his words, so much so that it took her aback, her eyes widening in surprise as her head pulled back like a cat’s.  “And it took Barton’s arrow through the gut to make me realize.”  He went silent, biting his bottom lip and looking away.  How much more did he dare tell her?  He hadn’t meant for the last bit to leave, but the reality of it stung his subconscious.  It’d been true, hadn’t it?  He didn’t feel as though he had any place to be.  He wasn’t an Asgardian, he wasn’t the Midgardian he’d been playing at.  Where else could he be, besides the world she’d described to him before?  Wasn’t that his best option?  His mind flew back to Thor, his once brother waiting for good news on the other side of the door.  He’d broken his heart once before, letting go and falling from the Bifrost.  Surely he couldn’t have sewn it all together again and left it as fragile this time around.  

“Go on.”  Natalia said when the silence became too much for her to stand.  

“If what you said, and offered, was true, then that makes you my best bet for some semblance of belonging.  It took me a long while to realize it, but we are alike.  Far too much for me to ignore, not if there are others like us.”  He looked up at her through his lashes, watched her throat bob, wondered if Natasha was still inside and watching him or if Natalia truly owned her, mind, body, and soul, at this point.  

“I feel it when I grow near you, feel the prickling in my skin when you touch me.  Feel that strange tug,” he took a hesitant step forward.  How many did he dare take?  “When I’m in the room with you.  It’s the magic, isn’t it?  That strange chaos that is mother to us both.”  

“And many more,” she reiterated, chancing a smile.  

“Then I want to know it.  I want to know more about it, and you, and if you’ll show me, then I’ll break you out of here.”  

“And your brother?  The others you vowed to work for?”  She asked, one eyebrow arching.  

“They don’t understand, not like you can.”  He said, his voice going so soft that she had to press closer in order to hear.  He stepped closer, this time pressing his fingers to the glass, and willing them to seep through the glass surface, pressing into her cell.  Extended his hand to her.  

“Let me get you out of here.”  

She took his hand, her lips splitting in a surprised, pleased grin that made his heart ache.  He’d seen Natasha give that to him once when they’d started making progress, when she’d started to remember the small details of her life, the positives, and the negatives, far before this madness had begun.  Their fingers threaded together, he tugged her forward, the glass melting around her until she was out of her cell and standing just beside him.  

It was just as easy, he wondered, to thrust his hand into her heart, feel the muscle pulsing beneath his fingertips as he squeezed it tight between his fingers as she’d threatened to do, and watched her eyes go wide with horror, her mouth dropping open, and then everything went black around the both of them.  

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

He blinked once, twice, three times, and still had no clue what the Hel had happened, standing in what he understood to be the Stark tower the others had taken up inhabiting.  Behind him he heard a clock being wound, and when he turned his heart jumped into his throat.  The same boy who Natasha had described time and time again stood just beside an enormous, old clock, winding it meticulously.  When he grinned Loki saw blackened blood that coated his gums and lips, and he couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen, yet the dark in his eyes and the snarl of a smirk on his face showed years beyond what was expected.  The spirit who’d haunted Natasha, forced sleepless nights upon her and pushed her to the brink of insanity.  Loki’s fists tightened at his sides.  

“I didn’t think.”  The clock’s clicking picked up in speed as the boy spoke.  “That you’d catch my hint so quickly.  Nice work.”  

“Where is Natasha?” Loki demanded, trying to step closer but finding his feet planted, glued, to the floor.  

“Ah-ah,” the boy waggled a finger at him, his glee spreading until his smile became near hysterical.  “Not yet.  I haven’t started your time.  Can’t get to the bottom of this yet without your time.”  

“My time?”

“You’ll have exactly half an hour to find Natasha.  Or I get her.  Forever.”  A laugh bubbled up past the boys lips that made Loki’s skin burst into goosebumps.  He barely held back a shudder.  “So you’d better hope you can do stairs quickly.”    
Loki scowled.  He was an officer, more than that he was a _god_ , and he’d trained for shit like this.  That being said--.  “How many floors are there?”

“Ah, now that would be telling.”  The boy snarked, eyes alight.  “But never forget: I gave you the chance to work with me.  Remember that when I’m devouring her from the inside out, then moving on to the next, and the next.  Whomever is pathetic enough to be so weak as to let me in.”  

Pain blossomed in Loki’s hands, where his nails had gouged into his skin from clenching his fists so hard.  “But if I find her in time--You will leave her alone, and everyone else.  You’ll go back to whatever hole of Hel you came from and never come back.”  

The boy’s eyes flashed, and with a snap of his fingers the time started on the clock.  “Your precious girlfriend isn’t that important.  Better find her, loverboy.”  

He didn’t need to be told twice, but as soon as he took off and found the door to the staircase he paused.  Up, or down?  And would she even stay in the same place?  He swallowed his questions and bolted up the stairs.  Better to try as high as he could get and then make his way down, where it’d be easier, he supposed.  He hoped.  Unless that was what the boy wanted him to think--.

He couldn’t think like that, though.  It wouldn’t serve he or Natasha, and he couldn’t lose her.  The first few flights of stairs were useless, empty rooms that only reflected his own fears back at him.  His feet felt leadened as he tried to run faster, taking the stairs three at a time but finding that they only grew longer and longer the faster he tried to get up them.  In the back of his mind he fancied he could hear the sound of the clock ticking, the idea playing on the back of his mind, and he had no idea whether or not he was anywhere close to finding her.  

When the idea came to him to use his magic it stopped him dead, and he closed his eyes to try and pop from one floor to the next.  Sirens blared in his ears, destroying his concentration and making him jump.  The hell was that!?  

“Oh! You are a slow one, aren’t you?” The boy’s voice asked, coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.  Loki spun, snarling, and suddenly he was behind him.  “I said you could take the stairs.  No magic.”  He smirked, and the clock that had materialized with him shifted so that he had less than five minutes.  “That means you get a penalty.  Better find her soon, boy-o.”  He laughed, and disappeared before Loki could lunge out to take him down himself.  Shit shit shit.  His mind whirled as he kept going up the stairs.  She had to be there, didn’t she?  He wouldn’t make it easy, and so it had to be at the hardest point, and that would be at the top of the building--.  

Get to the bottom of it.  

_The bottom of the building._

He hardly had time to think past that.  It had to be that--how could he have missed that clue?  He was slipping, and he all but hurtled down the stairs, flight after flight, keeping one hand in front of him as he swung around corners to keep from hitting anything else.  

Three minutes.  Two minutes.  He still had twenty floors to.  He’d started jumping the last five, though his knees complained all the while.  

One minute.  Half a minute.  He shoved past the door and found her standing in front of him.  Her eyes didn’t quite register that he was there, and he rushed towards her just as the last few seconds ticked on the clock. His hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her to him just before the clock struck the end of his half an hour.  He’d done it!  He clutched her tight to his body, feeling her go limp in his grip, as the boy stood in front of him.  Gone was the laugh and snark that Loki had been so familiar with, and in its place was a scowl that seemed to go bone deep.

“Don’t like beaten by your own game?” Loki demanded, his own glee suffocating.  

“You may have taken my queen but this game is far from over.”  The boy said, his eyes narrowing and darkening until they were nothing but black, shining in the light as he barred pointed teeth.  

\--

Stark and Thor were both staring at Natasha and Loki, who stood transfixed staring at one another on opposite ends of the glass containment cell she’d been put into, neither sure what exactly to expect.  “Should we try and move them?” Tony asked, worrying at his bottom lip as he stepped around Loki, considering shifting to try and move him but not daring to at the same time.  

“I don’t think so.  My brother knows what he is doing, and I don’t dare mess with his plan.”  Thor murmured, though he didn’t look so confident in his answer.  What if he was wrong?  Loki admitted to not quite knowing what was going on, so what if they never got Natasha back, or they were supposed to help out by moving them?  He didn’t know anything, and it was beginning to drive him insane.  

Half a moment passed of the pair of them watching the others, no one else managing to get into the same room as they were.  Half a moment, and then Loki and Natasha were blinking and stepping away from where they’d just stood as though they’d been burnt.  Natasha choked, her eyes widening as she clutched at her throat, stumbling backwards, as Loki rushed closer, trying to get to her.  His fingers pressed hard on the keypads as Stark shouted out the code, and by then Natasha had fallen to her knees, gagging and suffocating.  Her hands placed themselves hard on the floor, gripping, knuckles white, as she started coughing and throwing up.  Bandages, old and blackened, began to spill forth from her lips, unravelling in front of her on the floor.  Loki threw open the door and knelt beside her, rubbing her back and holding her hair, his eyes wide as his mind ran through all the possibilities, anything and everything he could do to try and make it better or make it stop--.

And then she was falling backwards, body heaving with great lungfuls of air, and Loki was checking her vitals as Thor growled in the back of his throat, standing in the doorway of the glass container.  

“L-Loki,” Natasha stammered, pointing back behind him, her body trembling with the effort to not fall to pieces.  He turned to find himself face to face with another Natasha--no, Natalia, the phantom, darker side who’d taken her image entirely.  Bastard.  He bared his teeth and shot a spell to freeze the phantom in its place, but Natalia simply side-stepped the attack and rushed towards Thor, who managed to shut the glass door, sealing all three of them in.  Loki closed his eyes, clutched at his Natasha, and they popped out of the containment cell, leaving the doppelganger trapped.  Finally.  

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

Natalia raged within the prison they’d contained her inside  while Natasha gasped and gagged, emptying what little she had in her stomach onto the floor.  Loki rubbed her back, though he never took his eyes off of the copy, not sure what to expect now that they’d caught it.  The boy had said that the game wasn’t yet complete, so what more was there to do in order to finish it?  If chaos was its endgame, then what would be the final stroke?  

Loki considered it while Natasha gasped and trembled beneath him, pushing herself up onto her knees from having been on all fours.  Tony took careful, slow steps around the contained Natalia, taking in the almost entirely authentic copy, muttering under his breath about how it was actually possible.  Loki didn’t care for the logistics of it, and neither did Thor, who came to drop to Natasha’s side and took her hands in his, pushing her hair out of her face.  

“Do you need anything?”  He asked quietly, as though afraid of the duplicate hearing.  “Water, a blanket?”

“Water, yes please,” she rasped, blinking up at him, recognition dawning on her face.  “Thor.  Thank you.”  She said with a nod, wiping the tears that had streamed down her face away with the back of her hand.  Her breath was shallow and Loki’s stomach pitched forward in nerves.  She was going to be alright, wasn’t she?

“Of course.”  He smiled.  “I have not forgotten the help you gave me when facing down Amora and her sister.  I am ever so grateful.”  

That snapped Loki’s attention back to them.  “When the hell was this?”  He demanded.  How was it that he hadn’t heard of it until then?  That Amora and Lorelei had come back at all was worrying--.

“About a week and a half before this,” Natasha said, voice just as soft, before her eyes widened and she clapped a hand over her mouth.  Loki felt his heart equally pound just as excitedly in his chest.  She remembered!  “How can--ow, fuck,” she removed the hand from her mouth and massaged her temples lightly.  “Shit, that hurts.  But my memories are back.  They’re back?”  She sounded uncertain, looking from Thor to Loki in surprise.

There wasn’t much else to say to that before the doors which they’d been so keen on keeping shut flew open.  Clint emerged with an arrow notched and pointed at Loki, Steve holding his shield in hand, ready to let it fly at the trickster.  They really needed to work on their timing, Loki couldn’t help but muse

“Get away from her you shit head,” Clint snarled, pulling the arrow back ever-so slightly.  It was Steve that put a hand on the bow, however, forcing him to lower it and pointing with his other hand to the cage where Natasha had been imprisoned before.  The woman in the glass prison had eyes so dark they were black, and her teeth bared as she stared at them all, snarling and spitting like a caged animal rather than a human.  

“You will release me.  Now.” She demanded of them, fingers tapping anxiously at her sides, looking from the pair that had stepped in Natasha and the others.  “You will let me go or I swear I will rain down a thousand years of misery on the lot of you.”  

“You’re not making such a good case for yourself red,” Stark said as he stopped at the front of the cage.  “Wanna tell us what you are?”

She rolled her eyes and let out a snuff of disbelief.  “Why don’t you ask your clever little trickster here yourself?  Certainly he can recognize another of his own, now that he’s seen me,” Natalia’s lips twisted into a smirk, and Loki felt his blood boil as the eyes of the Avengers turned immediately onto him.  Right.  Because it was all up to him to figure it all out, wasn’t it?  

“You’re nothing like me,” he said, standing up and leaving Natasha to Thor.  Natasha, whose eyes followed his every move as he stepped closer to the double, who needed him to figure this stupid puzzle before the monster could enter her once more.  Again he stared into the double’s pitch black eyes, demanding of himself that he read what it was, what lurked just beneath the pale skin and red hair of the woman behind him.  There was more to it than just a spirit, more to it than just chaos--yes, there was anger, so thick and murderous he thought it might close his throat.  He’d felt that before, and given what Natasha had been through he supposed it was not a surprise that it’d latched onto her.  But how had it even been unlocked?  And by whom?  

“No, but I am better than you ever could hope to be.”  She said, taking to pacing in front of him, a beast slinking from one side to the next, her hackles raised and eyes narrowed.  “I have been around longer than you, boy.  And I will always remain so.”  

“Looks to me like you’re locked up pretty tightly.  There’s no getting out of that, or else you’d have done it.  You have nothing to gain by being here.”  He goaded, prepared for her to leap out at any minute, to throttle him and take Natasha back.  He’d die before he let that happen.  

“You don’t know all my tricks,” the copy said.  

No, but he was certain he was getting damn close.  “So then come out and show me.”  

Her fist beat against the glass, and Loki was sure that it was going to break through, but the glass held.  No one breathed.  When nothing happened, and Natalia stepped away from the glass with a barely disguised snarl on her face, Loki relaxed.  Good.  Thank the Norns.  

“Seems whatever favor you thought you had is gone,” he murmured.  “Now.  If you cannot break out of here on your own then you are relying on the assistance of another.  Who is your patron?”

“Get away from me,” Natalia spat, though this time the words weren’t in English.  Had it not been for the Allspeak Loki wouldn’t have understood them, but Stark was quickly working on translating it for the others, tapping away on his phone and holding the device up to the glass as Natalia spat insult after insult, most of which made no sense, a combination of languages that sounded as though two voices were trying to work through the same mouth.  Even Natalia looked confused after a moment, clenching her jaw to force herself to shut up.  

Stark removed the translator from the wall and made a motion with his head that they were all to leave.  With Loki’s attention on the doppelganger in front of him he hadn’t realized that Clint had led Natasha out of the room, hopefully taking her to go lay down and recover her strength, to get that water that she’d needed, while Steve, Stark, and Loki made to follow soon after.  Thor volunteered to stay behind and keep an eye on the prisoner.  As the strongest of all of them Loki supposed that made the most sense.  Besides, he was too intrigued to see what it was Stark had found out.  

 

“Nat, do you know how to speak Norwegian?”  Tony asked, the lot of them settling around Natasha’s bedside.  Banner had joined them, having flown in to keep an eye on Natasha’s vitals before the two had made the split, and was keeping Natasha hydrated and checking out just what the split and the spirit’s rampage within her body had done to her.  

She shook her head.  “No.  One of the few languages I don’t know.”

“I didn’t think so.  That copy--Natalia, is that what she’s calling herself?”  

Loki nodded.  Stark rolled his eyes.  

“Whatever.  She was speaking a loose version of it--ancient stuff, as well as Japanese.  Why the two got combined I can’t say, but Nat you know the latter.  Is it possible that she held onto that language after the duplication process?”  

“Doubtful,” Loki mused, biting on his bottom lip.  His fingers were threaded with Natasha’s from where he sat beside her.  He didn’t know what it was she remembered, but it had been enough for her to take his hand in hers and hold him tight.  “A slight, temporary memory transfer I can understand--but she shouldn’t have retained enough of Natasha’s knowledge and instinct to do something like that.”  

“So, now level with me here.  This Amora--I remember her.  She and her sister came down hell bent on enslaving all of mankind, and they spoke a language similar to this specific iteration of Norwegian.  I had Jarvis record it just in case we needed it.  Never know.”  He said, and replayed a portion of it from his Stark phone.  

“You and all of you will freeze in the depths of Hel itself,” a deep voice said on the phone said, sending shivers down Loki’s spine.  Had he not just heard the same thing come from Natalia’s mouth, albeit jumbled and making little to no sense when mixed with the other language?  

“So you’re saying Amora’s behind this?  Again?”  Steve asked, his eyes narrowing, hand clasping his shield tighter.  “Why?”

“Why not?” Natasha asked, her voice still cracking, as though she hadn’t used it in ages.  He wondered what damage vomiting the copy up had done to her vocal chords, and pressed his free hand to the soft skin of her throat.  The skin heated up beneath his touch and the corners of Natasha’s eyes widened as she looked to him.  “Better?”  He asked when he pulled away.  

She nodded, voice smooth when she spoke again. “Yes.  Thanks.  But why wouldn’t Amora have something to do with this?  Or Lorelei?  They struck me as jealous individuals.  If I was helping Thor wouldn’t that all but paint a target on my back?”

“And you were the only one who could outright ignore their calling,” Steve reminded her,  

Natasha nodded.  “So this, whatever it is.  I couldn’t resist this, not when it’s disguised as amnesia to make sure that I couldn’t tell anyone who’d done it.”

“Makes sense, but now how do we get rid of the copy?”  Clint asked, looking from Natasha to Loki, whose face had gone blank as he thought it over.  It said that it was older than even he was, yet it wasn’t strong enough to free itself.  Why was that?  Just what did it need to make itself strong enough, a host?  What would happen if they were to alter the form it was in currently, to weaken it?  

“It’s going to be something Eastern.  Likely Japanese, if that’s the language it’s speaking,” Bruce supplied from his place at Natasha’s side, having been content with the results shown on the machines as he’d just taken a seat and relaxed, at least as much as he could.  

“So, a Japanese spirit of chaos that would be best friends with Loki if he was batshit insane.”  Stark suggested with a shrug.  “Right?  Jarvis?”

“Perhaps a nogitsune is what you are thinking of, sir?”  

Stark pulled up the article, reading aloud what it was that Jarvis had found, and the more he read the more it fit.  The black eyes and bared teeth, the jerky, never still movement, as though it was paranoid and jumpy.  Coupled with Natasha’s flaming red hair it certainly fit the fox description, and if the article was to be believed, they had roamed the earth long before Loki had even been born.

“Does your article say how to destroy one?”  

“I’m afraid not.”  

Clint cursed from his place beside Steve, stepping away from where they’d gathered while Natasha slumped slightly.  “Do we find Amora, then?”  She asked, looking to Loki.  “Get her to do something about it?”  

“I’ll deal with Amora--I might have an idea.”  He said, clenching his back teeth as once more he felt the eyes of the others on him.  He could only hope it would work.  

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

To say it was risky was putting it mildly, Loki supposed, but they didn’t have many other options when no one else could come up with a plan.  They needed to severely weaken the nogitsune, which meant injecting a disabling serum Bruce had come up with into the host’s body.  Without it slashing its attackers throat open.  Natasha at first volunteered to do it, to which the group unanimously shot that idea down.  

“It’s going to go for you first,” Clint reminded her.  “And giving Amora or this spirit what they want isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

Wisely, no one brought up that she needed to rest, Natasha already raging against her Bruce imposed lock-up.  “Then let me distract it at least,” she bargained.  

“No, absolutely not,” Steve insisted while Loki paused, his eyes bright with an idea.  

“Wait.  That could work,” he said softly.  Nat beamed while the others glowered.  

“No way.”  Clint interjected, protective to a fault.  

“If she were safe on the other side while a second moved to jab the copy--.”

“Natalia would sense it.”  Steve said.  

“What if Loki poofed his way in?  He did the reverse, how hard could it be?”  Stark asked, looking hopeful for half a second.  He met Loki’s gaze.  “You could do that, couldn’t you?”

“Yes, I can,” he said, turning from Stark to Steve and Clint.  

“I still don’t want Natasha getting involved again,” Bruce murmured.  “It’s too dangerous.  Too unstable a plan.  Any number of things could go wrong, and what if this nogitsune takes you, Loki?”

“I don’t think we have any more options.  I’m fairly certain she’ll grow stronger the longer she sits in that cell.  If Amora does come to her aid then we don’t stand a chance against the pair of them.  Even less so if she brings Lorelei with her as you said she’s done in the past.”  Loki said, speaking very quickly, gaze burning with frustration.  There just wasn’t time to bicker, they had to move, and move quickly.  

 

It was with that in mind that Natasha was brought to stand in front of the Nogitsune, Loki waiting in the shadows of the room.  He didn’t dare use his magic, not just yet.  They told her that he’d left, gone to hunt Amora down, and if the goddess was listening then she would be distracted and, ideally, leave the creature alone.  

Loki doubted she’d come the moment she heard he was away.  In all his dealings with Amora he’d never known her to be self sacrificing.  

From where he stood he could see Natasha’s face as she stared up at the creature, her brow creased and her lips drawn tight into a frown of confusion.  They watched one another for the longest time, neither willing to make the first move, neither willing to break down and lose this battle of wills.  It would’ve been admirable if Loki didn’t notice the way that Natasha had begun to tremble not two minutes into it.  He was nearly certain that the creature was drawing its strength from her form even though they’d grown separate, and if she kept drawing it out it was going to kill her before Loki even had the chance to stick it with the serum they’d managed to piece together.  

“You’re not looking too good.”  The nogitsune’s words slithered from her mouth, slick with self-satisfaction enough to make Natasha’s trembling get worse, despite the way her hands tightened on her arms, white-knuckled to keep herself from showing her weaknesses.  

“Says the coward wearing my skin,” Natasha said, her voice clear as Loki could’ve expected.  Steadier, in fact, than he’d thought it would be.  

“Well, one must make the best out of the worst situations,” the clone gave a one-shouldered shrug as she began to pace in her cell.  Her gaze never left Natasha’s, and Natasha kept it the whole while.  “I’d love to get a hand on your new lover's.  Think he’ll let me?”  

“I think you’ll be dead before you can get close enough.”  

“And once I finish draining whatever life is left in you.  Will he let me get close enough then?  Rage is a fickle thing.”  The nogitsune pressed her fingers to the glass of her prison, and for half a second Loki was certain they would go through this time.  Natasha went stock still, her eyes going wide as she stared at whatever it was the nogitsune was showing her.  The trembling got worse, and it made the creature laugh.  

“Pathetic creature--I can feel your heart beginning to slow down. You’ve got seconds, and he’s not even here to be with you.  You mean so little to him.”  She tutted, tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth, a mother scolding a misbehaving child before telling them to go to bed without supper.  “And you all mean so little in the long run.  So much more will come to pass now that I am awake.”  

“What more?”  Natasha asked, and her eyes widened, snapping back up to meet with the nogitsune’s.  “What do you know?”

“Why does it matter, child?”  The creature asked, voice broken with a laugh.  “You will be too dead to see it.  But come closer, I will say it for your ears and yours alone.”  

As Natasha moved closer on wobbling feet, Loki hearing Clint’s breathing stop for half a second, he took a step forward, then a second when the nogitsune didn’t move.  Didn’t sense him.  He’d been right to agree with Natasha that she was the perfect distraction.  His fingers clutched the serum all the tighter as he took another couple silent steps forward.  Even he couldn’t hear what the nogitsune was saying, but Natasha, who’d come close enough to see her reflection in the glass before her, had begun to cry.  Loki could smell the salt of her tears before he heard the slow rasp of her breath as she tried to even it out.  Her hand came to cover her mouth, and she stared up at her double with horror written on the face he’d grown to care so much for.  

“You can’t do that,” she hissed.  This time it was her fist that banged against the wall.  “You can’t!”  

Loki went still as the nogitsune laughed, her head tipping back so that her red hair tumbled over her shoulders.  He half expected her to see him.  He was pushing it, getting dangerously close now, but the shorter distance he had to travel, the less time he’d spend giving himself away.  Just two paces more.  Just two more before he dared risk it.  

“I think you’ll find, Natasha, that I can, and I will.”  

Any minute she was going to hear him, hear him and turn and this would be all over and they’d have to find some other way to trick her into changing her form-- _and her gaze was still so fixed on Natasha, did he dare_?  He took the last two steps, and with one last quick intake of breath he disappeared.  

In the half a second it took for him to manifest into the cage the creature had known something was up.  She whirled on him just as he moved to bring the needle of the serum into her throat, and he ducked to avoid the blow of her arm against his head.  The needle stuck into her thigh instead, and though her elbow crashed down on his temple he managed to press the plunger down.  Half of the liquid, bright, radioactive green, disappeared into her veins before she managed to lash out at him with a kick of Natasha’s, one that sent him crashing through the glass of the prison they’d kept her in.  Clint and Steve jumped into position at that, Clint firing a stunning arrow at the nogitsune, but she ducked to avoid it.  Natasha jumped forward, weak though she might’ve been, and grabbed the serum where it’d fallen.  She managed to stick the needle right into the base of the monster’s spine, making the red-headed doppelganger shriek as Natasha finished injecting the serum.  Just as the nogitsune made to bat her away, a snarl of disbelief twisting her features, she froze.  Where the serum had been injected began to turn the same shade of green as the liquid had once been, before the skin went black and began to crack.  Those who were on their feet and coming closer, Steve, Clint, Tony, were all blown backwards by a force radiating off of the nogitsune, sent flying backwards and crashing into walls, machinery, and one another.  Natasha barely managed to keep her balance, nails digging into the floor, before the creature in front of her turned wholly black and crumbled to dust in front of her.  

As Loki got to his feet to contain what he could of the dust, terrifying it would manifest into another creature, that this was all just one more trick, he saw the color begin to blossom back in the apples of Natasha’s cheeks.  

 

He’d promised he’d deal with Amora, and he would do just that.  Thor had already gone on ahead to track the huntress down with his other friends, who’d been hot on her trail chasing her down through Vanaheim, but there were a couple things Loki wanted to take care of first.  They’d somehow managed to get Natasha to rest, and he’d found her alone save a sleeping Bruce in the corner just before he’d left.  Her eyes were open and on him the second he stepped through the door, and he allowed his face to relax in a small smile.  

“Hey.  Feeling better?”  

“I want to go with you.”  She said, not falling for his small talk.  He supposed he should’ve expected it.  

He waited until the door shut behind him and he’d moved to take a seat beside her on the bed.  “You can’t.  Not just yet.”

“She threatened my friends and everyone else here.  I’m going to kill her.”  

“You already did away with the nogitsune.  You’ll get there, you just need to rest first.”  He promised, his expression sympathetic.  Whatever it was the creature had said he hadn’t asked, hadn’t pried, but it’d really done a number on her.  Especially if she was letting him see it.  Didn’t he know, better than most, just how good she could be at hiding it when she wanted to?  

“I’ve rested.”

“For hardly half a day.”

“You really think I need more?”  She asked with an arched brow.  

Loki reached over and took her hand in his, brought her nearest hand, the one not connected to a machine ensuring that she got all the vitamins and nutrients she’d missed out while the nogitsune had her, and brought it up to his lips.  “How about I bring her back to you for you to dispense justice?”  He asked after considering it for a moment.  He took her silence as a sign to go on.  “We hunt her down and bring her back, and you do what you do best: extract information.  Seems to me like you’re the best there is, and I would love to see you in action.”  He shot her a flattering smile.  In spite of herself he watched the corners of her lips flutter upwards.  

“Stop sweet talking me.  I’m still cross you won’t let me go.”  

“Then I’ll have to make it up to you, won’t I?”

“That’s assuming I’ll let you,” she shot, tugging her hand from his with a challenging smirk.  

There was nothing Loki loved more than a challenge.  

 

 


End file.
